by K. Webster
Her lip curls up and it’s hella cute. “I guess.”
“Good,” I murmur. “I like talking to you.”
She parts her lips when I toy with the keys hanging from her necklace. I tug on it, pulling her closer.
“I gotta tell you a secret.” I flash her a grin. “Come here.”
A gasp escapes her when I pull her closer to me by her necklace. I pluck the AirPod out of her ear, leaning in to whisper to her. “You look beautiful, mean-ass. So beautiful I can’t stop staring at you.”
“I’m not a ball in your court, player,” she says, pressing a finger to my lips and pushing me away from her.
Her words sting, but I guess I had them coming. It’s not like Cal and I didn’t try to fuck the entire female population in Oregon. There’s no hiding that fact.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” I tease, grinning at her.
She does her dramatic eye rolling that has her lashes fluttering wildly. “Go mack on someone else.”
“You’re the only one here.”
Her head cocks to the side, her brows furling. “There are like eight other people here if you count Emilia.”
“I only see you,” I admit.
“Ew. Save it for someone else,” she says, rising to her feet. “I’m not interested.”
Before I can even think about the fact it’s because I look like a fucking train wreck, she swirls around, her finger right in my face.
“And not because of the way you look, Smash. You fucking know it too so stop being dramatic. I happen to think the dents and scars make you look badass.” She holds out her palm. “Give me back my shit.”
I hand her the AirPod, noting her body shivers when my fingers brush against hers. She snatches it away and shoves it into her ear. This time, rather than feeling sorry for myself, I shamelessly check out her ass as she walks away.
Penny has a nice goddamn ass in a pair of skinny jeans.
Jesus.
Cal plops down in her chair, smacking my cheek. “Dude. Stop salivating over jailbait.”
“I’m not…” I trail off and shake my head. “Can you blame me? Look at her.”
He barks out a laugh. “I’m looking and all I see is smartass Penny.”
“In. Fucking. Jeans.”
“Bad idea,” he mutters. “Protective big brother in three, two…”
Hollis sits down on the arm of the chair, frowning at me. “What are you and Penny up to? Lots of secrets going on. You better not be fucking my sister.”
This fucking guy…
“I’m not fucking your sister,” I snap.
I want to…if she were older.
Hollis narrows his eyes at me, reminding me of Penny. “Probably better not even think about it either.”
Cal snorts. “Nice try, rat. He already thought it. Look at his face.”
“Traitor,” I mutter, punching Cal’s knee.
“I like you, Terrence,” Hollis says. “I don’t want to have to bust you in your good eye.”
Cal cracks up laughing, earning another punch by me to his leg.
“He actually fucked your sister, but I can’t even look at your other sister. How is that fair?” I demand. “Penny’s just my mean-ass friend. Nothing more.”
Hollis’s features soften. “She’s not like Charlotte. Penny is different. More vulnerable. Innocent. She needs more protecting.”
Damn right she does.
And I feel like it’s my job to do it, too.
I don’t tell Hollis that.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble. “Heard you loud and clear.”
Sure, I heard him.
Doesn’t mean I was listening, though.
All night, I feel like Penny avoids me. She bounces from conversation to conversation, adding in her bitchy two cents, all the while leaving me to stalk her to each one. When Penny gets asked by Roux to hold her baby, Emilia, she tenses and I can tell she doesn’t want to.
“I’ll hold her,” I offer, sitting close to Penny on the sofa.
Roux flashes me a thankful smile. Jordy is in the kitchen laughing with the other Hoodlums and Hollis while Charlotte is locked in an intense conversation with Loden. It makes me feel bad Tierra couldn’t be here, but it’s her damn fault for getting grounded by Grandma.
“I’ll be right back,” Roux assures me. “I need to run to the restroom.”
She hands me the swaddled bundle. I lean back against the cushions, admiring the cute baby. Emilia is barely a week old and so damn tiny. I hold her to my chest, patting her back with my giant hand that’s damn near the length of her body.
So fucking cute.
A pang of sadness washes over me. I missed this with Zella. All this shit with Samantha is just for confirmation of what I already know. I’m sad that I’ve missed out on four years. Four years that Lacey didn’t have to parent alone. Sure, it would have sucked trying to go to college and also be a father, but I would have found a way to make it happen.
“You think she’ll be rowdy like Sebban?” I murmur, slightly nudging an all-too quiet Penny beside me.
“She’s part Hoodlum, so probably.”
Sebban is spending the night with Kelsey and Karen. Kelsey, though young and hot, is a surprisingly good grandma. I know she picks him up and keeps him a lot, which helps out Hollis and Roan with their strange work schedules.
I run a finger over the soft hair on Emilia’s tiny head. Her lips pucker as she makes a face in her sleep.
“I’ll hold her,” Penny says, her voice tight.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
I cock a brow and cut my gaze to Penny. She’s fidgety and her blue eyes storm with emotion, but she holds out her arms anyway. Carefully, I turn Emilia and then settle her into Penny’s waiting arms. My fingers brush along Penny’s bare skin and she shudders, scowling at me.
A small laugh tumbles out. “Sorry.”
Not sorry, though. I crave to run my finger along her forearm, up over the curve of her small bicep, around her shoulder, and to her neck.
I sling an arm over the back of the sofa behind Penny, leaning in so I can still look at Emilia. At first, Penny is stiff, but she relaxes, talking softly to Emilia.
With my free hand, I gently stroke Emilia’s hair again. She’s just so soft and cute. My leg starts aching, so I stretch it out, only wincing slightly. Penny nudges me with her thigh, sending currents of heat straight to my cock.
“You’re hurting,” she says, frowning my way.
“Always.”
Emilia opens her eyes, pinning us with amber ones that match her mother’s. Her face scrunches and then she lets out a grumbly-ass fart that sounds wet.
“Ew,” Penny whines. “Take her.”
“All yours, babe,” I say with a laugh.
Her eyes are fiery. “I’m serious. I hate poop.”
“And I like it?” I challenge.
“You’re a boy. Boys are gross. Just take her.”
Jordy appears, looking fatherly as fuck as he holds his hands out for his baby. “Hand her over. Roux wants to feed her anyway. I’ll go change her.”
Penny happily passes her back to her daddy. As soon as he leaves us, I realize with my arm on the sofa behind Penny and sitting so closely, we might be seen as a couple. And, for some reason, I don’t hate that fact.
Penny, however, must.
She flies off the sofa and heads toward the kitchen. Before I can go after her, I’m bombarded by Cal, who sits down in Penny’s vacated seat and proceeds to give me shit about lusting over jailbait.
I’m in so much trouble with this girl.
Penny
I’m antsy. Wired. Over it. I should leave, but it’s one of those moments where I know I’ll get more shit about leaving than staying. Everyone will want to know what’s wrong and then they’ll draw conclusions that it has to be Terrence.
I don’t want them blaming him for my pissy mood.
Even if he is the reason.
&nb
sp; Being mad at him makes no sense. He’s done nothing wrong, but I can’t help but feel edgy and bursting with energy whenever he nears me. All night, he’s been right there beside me with his intoxicating scent and addictive smile.
He makes me feel warm, but with each passing second, the heat inside me increases tenfold, leaving me a burning inferno of…something. It makes me feel out of control. For a girl who desperately needs control to feel somewhat normal, this is stressful.
I catch his dark-eyed stare as he laughs at something Loden says. They’re standing near the kitchen table, absently picking at snacks there. Loden, of course looks good in all his rock star glory, but he pales in comparison to the way Terrence’s energy pulsates like rays from the sun.
Terrence is too much…everything.
And I still can’t decide if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.
His dark jeans hug his muscular thighs, fitting him in all the right places. Rather than a hoodie, tonight he’s wearing a pale blue Henley that seems painted on his muscular frame. I’ve been captivated all night by the way the material stretches over each bulge of muscle.
Heat zaps through me again.
Like I said, he’s the sun.
Burning the fuck out of me from the inside out.
Needing an escape, I rush to the bathroom. Once inside, I splash cold water on my neck to cool off. It’s nearing midnight, which means once this countdown is over, I’m going to bail. Jordy already took Roux and Emilia home hours ago. No one will care when I sneak out too.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I yank it out to find a text from Tierra.
Tierra: Oh my God. I’m in hell.
Me: Why did you get grounded anyway?
She’d texted last minute earlier today saying her grandma grounded her and she wouldn’t be coming to the party. I thought it was strange, but she didn’t elaborate.
Tierra: I texted him.
Me: Who?
Tierra: Tim.
Oh, fuck no. That old man who works with her dad? The same Tim she sent nudes to?
Me: Bad idea. What about the investigation?
Tierra: It was a weak moment. No need to judge.
Me: I get it, but won’t you get in trouble? Did he text back?
Tierra: He misses me too…
Me: Back away, Tee. He’s bad news. You’re in all kinds of shit over him. Don’t get pulled back into it.
Tierra: I know. I won’t.
It feels like a lie, though.
Me: Next time you feel like texting him, just text me instead.
Tierra: Yeah, I know, girl. Love you.
I’m not a gushy, lovey-dovey girl, so I just send her some thumbs-up emojis because it seems like my equivalent of a “love you.”
Tierra: Bitch.
I smirk and then send her a middle finger emoji instead. This earns me a lot of crying laughing emojis and then a sassy selfie of her in her jammies, grinning like an idiot. I give her my own selfie. I’m like her alter-ego, the unsmiling, bitchy version.
Tierra: Why you gotta be so hot, Pen? Gonna turn Queen Tee gay!
Me: Better than you texting with old perverts.
Tierra: He’s not old.
Me: Stop talking.
Tierra: Such a bitch, but you’re my bitch.
Me: Bye, bitch.
Tierra: Bye, Sociopath Barbie.
This time, I send her a mixture of thumbs-ups and middle fingers.
After wasting as much time as possible in the bathroom, I finally slip out. Everyone has migrated to the living room. The music has been turned off as they get ready for the ball to drop in New York City. Of course, it’s already flipped over into the new year hours ago and pre-recorded because we’re on opposite sides of the US. Our new year, however, is about to start.
To avoid the loud laughing and cutting up, I make my way into the kitchen. I lean my ass against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. Waiting. Counting down. Ready to leave.
And just like that…he arrives.
Terrence James.
The beautifully broken one.
Look away, Penny.
You can’t look at the sun. You’ll go blind.
Yet, I can’t help it. My eyes lock on his as he prowls my way, something feral and ravenous in his stare that makes me shiver in a way that doesn’t feel uncomfortable.
“Hiding from me?” he asks, his lips quirking up on one side.
I roll my eyes. “Just waiting until midnight so I can leave.”
His amusement fades as he steps closer. “Then who will I talk to?”
“Cal?”
“He talks too much,” he teases, his words soft, just the way I like them.
“He does,” I agree. “He’s the mouthiest Hoodlum.”
Terrence laughs, a deep, husky sound that sends currents of electricity zapping through every last one of my nerve endings. “The guy never shuts up.”
I fixate on his neck. How can a neck be so interesting to look at? Terrence’s neck keeps my attention. Corded with muscle. Prominent Adam’s apple. Dark, golden kissed brown skin. I wonder what he smells like along his jaw line that’s trimmed neatly with short black hair.
I should be weirded out that I wonder what he smells like. It’s out of the ordinary for me to wonder such things. I’m way out of my depth, in an unknown territory of my mind. My head’s already a fucked-up, murky place. Now, I feel as though I’ve discovered a new piece of it. It’s dark and deep and I don’t know what the hell is hiding in this part of me.
It’s frightening.
And exciting.
My breath hitches when Terrence steps closer, crowding me with his massive form. A small gasp escapes me when he grabs my arms and uncrosses them from over my chest. His large hands easily encircle each bicep. He runs his hands down the lengths of my arms, settling at my wrists. After a quick squeeze, he releases them to lift my chin with a finger, forcing our stares to meet. My heart does a nervous flop inside of my chest. The burning inferno within me flares to life.
I vaguely hear the growing excitement from the living room as the countdown begins. Terrence strokes his fingers through my hair and then curls his large hand around the side of my neck. I can’t seem to understand why my body’s not going haywire from his touch or his nearness. All I know is it’s going crazy with new sensations.
Need.
Fiery want.
Explosive heat.
His dark eyes lock on mine, intent and promise gleaming in them. He drops his stare to my lips and then uses his thumb to gently drag across the bottom one.
“I’m gonna kiss you, Penny.” He smirks and lifts a brow. “What do you think about that?”
The countdown has begun, and my heart seems to thump in cadence with each passing second.
“I need words,” he rumbles. “I need you to want it too. I need—”
“Stop talking,” I bite out as I stand on my toes, bringing my face close to his.
His eyes flash with heat and then his lips brush against mine, gently at first. So soft I wonder if I imagined it. Then, his palm is clutching the back of my neck, drawing me closer so he can claim me. My lips part on a sigh, allowing him access to my mouth. The second his tongue swipes across mine, my kneejerk reaction is to recoil.
But then he groans—manly and feral and starved. It’s a sound I really, really like. I lose myself to the hungry sound as he devours me with a kiss. All I can do is clutch onto his tight shirt, pulling him closer so he can kiss me deeper.
His tongue. His teeth. His lips.
They’re all over mine, tasting and exploring and owning.
I’ve never felt so consumed in all my life.
People are yelling “Happy New Year,” but I can’t even be bothered by it because I’m frozen in this moment with Terrence James.
Sadly, he pulls away, ending our kiss.
Everything assaults me all at once. The cheers. The music. The obnoxious beating of my heart. Too much.
Terrence’s features t
wist from sated to concerned.
I don’t like it.
He reaches for me and I hiss.
“D-Don’t touch me!”
His jaw clenches. “Do you have your white noise? Turn it on, Penny. Do it now.”
I gape at him in horror. How does he know I need it to keep from losing my shit? Shame burns at my eyes and has my chest tightening.
Fumbling with my phone, I turn on the sound, blasting my eardrums with it. My hands tremble, and based on the worried glint in Terrence’s eyes, I can tell he wants to help.
He can’t help.
No one can.
“I need to leave,” I snap, hating how awful I sound right now.
I don’t want to leave.
I want to kiss him again and again and again.
I want to tell him my first kiss was perfect.
Instead, I storm out of the kitchen, grab my leather jacket and keys, and bolt out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye to anyone.
Why can’t I just be normal?
“What about this shop?” Mom asks, pointing to a thrift store.
I nod absently. So much has changed since we moved from Vermont. At one time, we would’ve shopped only at the mall, not some quaint Main Street thrift shop. Back when we lived with Dad, halfway across the US, we were rich and frankly kind of snotty. But Dad lost his shit when Hollis came out gay, and we later learned Dad was having an affair. Mom picked up and moved us all the way here to Hood River, Oregon. Middle of fucking nowhere. It’s all good, though, because we found friends, and both my siblings found love.
As soon as we walk inside, I decide I like the place. It’s quiet and jammed with clothes. Mom takes off toward the career section to look for work clothes. Charlotte and I head in opposite directions as well. Charlotte’s going through a black phase right now. I can’t help but think it’s because of what happened with Ryan and Michael. But, despite what those evil fuckers did to my sister, she’s still happy and here with us.
She just likes to wear more black now.
I suppose I’m fine with that so long as we don’t lose her to drugs and depression. I’m not the best sister, emotionally, but I need my siblings to be happy and safe.
The racks I head toward are the screen-print tees. I love finding random shirts that make no sense and make people frown. Some are cheesy or too happy. I find one that says “Buicks are for Bitches.” I don’t know what it means, but it makes me smile and it’s only three dollars, so I grab it. There’s a T-shirt with a gigantic thumbs-up that says, “Cool story, bro.” I’m about to add that one to my pile when Charlotte steals it.
