Forever Kinda Love Page 6

  I push back and curl my trembling hands into fists. Is this what first kiss jitters feel like? I never felt like this with any of the previous girls.

  Shit.

  This is going to be . . .

  I look toward the front door of the bar. Red and orange lights blink and disappear from the rims of the windows. Loud, obnoxious laughter fills the crisp night air, along with the rumbling of motorcycles coming in and out of the parking lot.

  Big guys hop off their bikes while another group laughs and throw their beers to the asphalt, almost like they’re ready to get into a fight.

  Light reflects off one of the big-ass dude’s backsides when he bends over—a gun. I wonder briefly if I should warn the others, but I’m sure they’ll be safe enough, as long as Biker Joe and his friends stay outside.

  I glance at Ace, hoping she hasn’t noticed the guy with the gun.

  The need to keep her safe runs through me, and I pivot toward her, blocking her view of the bad behind us.

  “Do you remember that time I broke your Barbie, and then buried it so you’d spend time with me, instead?” I ask.

  “Yeah. You denied the crap out of it,” she responds. Her legs swing lazily off the edge of the Wrangler.

  I smile. “Until you refused to talk to me.”

  She nods.

  “I never told you why I did that,” I say, carefully looking at the new bikers that arrive, taking in everything about our surroundings.

  Her beautiful gray eyes squint, and she surprises me with her words. “You were jealous.”

  I open my mouth to deny it, but what’s the use? I was going to admit that, anyway. “Was I that obvious?”

  She shrugs, looking away. I hop down and stand in front her, snuggling between her knees. This is something I’d have never done before. But tonight, I want her to know. I need her to understand, even if I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. I need her to look at me when I confess that I’m jealous of Vincent, or any other Goddamn guy that talks to her.

  I want to rip their heads off and bury their bodies so that even the best sniffer-dogs can’t find them.

  I take a deep breath and tilt my head slightly. Her lips quiver. Is she nervous? Am I making her uncomfortable?

  “Baby,” I drawl. I realize she’s the first person I’ve ever called that. I think back to all the others I’ve been with, trying to remember. But nothing comes to mind. “Baby,” I say again.

  Something about that endearment and Ace feels perfect. I place my hand on her thigh, and she doesn’t flinch. If I had a tail, it’d be wagging like a mother. Her chest rises and falls as her breathing grows shallow. “You’re not just my best friend, Ace. You’re family . . . coming back to you is like my automatic response. I don’t even realize I do it most of the time.”

  Her mouth forms the shape of an O. I place my other hand on her cheek and gently swipe my thumb over her reddened skin.

  “When I see you with other guys . . .” I swallow. I don’t need to scare her. “I feel this need . . . Ace, you’re my . . .” I shove my fingers through my hair and squeeze my eyes shut.

  A warm hand touches my face, cupping my jaw, and I lean into it, unable to resist how comfortable it feels.

  “You mean more to me than . . .” I swallow again, because emotions are coursing through me. I can’t seem to find the right words, or the courage to say them. But God, I hope she knows what I’m trying to tell her . . . I open my eyes. “I’m afraid I’m going to fuck this up. Say something, Ace. Anything.” Even to my own ears, I sound pathetic.

  She doesn’t speak. Pain slowly spread from my chest to the rest of my body.

  “What about Lisa?” she asks, her words so soft, I barely catch them.

  I’m not sure why Lisa matters. I’m talking about her and me . . . right? My head spins with confusion. “What about her?”

  She shakes her head and looks at me. “What do you want from me, Heath? I don’t know what you’re expecting.”

  What do I want? Hell if I know. My shoulders slump and I glance at her mouth. I’m more confused than a baby brought to a new world. “I don’t know,” I whisper as the panic builds, constricting my airways. The tightness inside my chest is reaching epic proportions. What if I lose her? I cross my arms on her lap and lay my head over them. “I don’t know.”

  She places her hand on my head and runs her fingers through my hair in a comforting gesture. The tension in my muscles and the ache in my heart ease like melted butter. I lift my head, and her hands cup my face.

  She leans forward, like she wants her lips to touch mine. “You’ll always have me. There’s nothing in this world that can push me away from you. I’m ready to jump with my eyes closed and you by my side. I trust you. I need you. Always. But you have to say it, Heath. Just . . .” Her tongue darts out, licking her lips. “Whatever it is you’re trying to figure out, know that I’ll be here, waiting for you.” She lets go, a small smile tugging at her mouth.

  I study her, feeling the power of her words seeping through me, giving me strength.

  “Only you have the power to change your future,” she says, running her thumb between my eyebrows in a soothing motion.

  Before I have a chance to register what she’s insinuating, I notice an abrupt change in our environment, drawing my attention away from Ace. The music is no longer pounding the air. It’s been replaced by screams and the sound of furniture breaking. Two loud gunshots go off, and I turn around, ready to haul Ace out of here.

  She yells, pointing to the bar as she jumps off the Wrangler. “Our friends are still in there!”

  Before I can stop her, she runs to the damned bar. Letting out a few colorful four-letter words, I run after her. “Stay behind me,” I order, and pull her hand into mine once I catch up to her.

  We shove against the sea of scared drunks and reenter the bar. What the . . . ?

  “Vincent!” Ace yells, then immediately clamps her hand over her mouth.

  He’s standing in the middle of a pile of bleeding bikers. I instruct Ace to go back to the Wrangler and head toward him.

  I see another guy come at him with a chair, but before I can intercept, he falls to his knees, glass spattering around his head like sparkling rain. Rock stands behind him with a jagged, clear glass bottle in hand. The biker’s nostrils flare, and before he can hurt the poor kid, I run forward, grab a hold of his hair, and slam his head into my left knee.

  He gurgles and collapses to the ground, unconscious. Rock gives me an appreciative nod, and I return the gesture. Looking down at my pants, I curse. Martha, our housekeeper, is going to give me shit about the blood splattered all over them.

  “You okay?” I hear Ace before her hand curls over my arm. I pat it reassuringly. Then she heads to Vincent and asks him the same.

  When she doesn’t touch his arm like she did mine, I smile like a fool, scouring the room for Lisa. She’s the only person I haven’t seen yet, and a small hint of worry clouds over my joy.

  My gaze lands on her when she stands up from behind a toppled table on the other side of the room. Shaking, she hugs her arms around her body. Ace walks toward her, pulling her into a hug.

  “You okay?” Ace asks, her voice slicing through the deafening tension in the room.

  Lisa nods, but her chin quivers like she’s about to lose it any second. Ace gives me a concerned look before she walks Lisa out of the bar. I know she’s taking her to my Wrangler.

  “What the hell happened?” I hear Jason’s voice from behind me.

  I sneer. “That’s what I would like to know.”

  “We were playing pool, and Lisa got a little buzzed. So, when a guy grabbed her, she thought it was you and kissed him. A second later, when she realized it wasn’t you, she punched the guy in the face. Before we knew it, his idiot buddies joined the fight, and we were outnumbered,” Rock says, almost in awe. He turns to Vincent. “Good thing my brother was here to take care of the little shits.”

  Guilt gnaws at me. If it weren’
t for me, Lisa wouldn’t have been in this predicament. She wouldn’t have been drinking so much. I should have just dropped her at her place before coming here.

  Troy and some other guys from the team look a little messed up, but nothing too life threatening. They nod. As they filter out of the place, I catch a glimpse of Vincent. I notice the gash and cuts over his face and arms. It must have been one hell of a fight. I give a silent thank you gesture to him. He ignores it, walking past me. Like this is something he doesn’t want to be thanked for.

  Whatever.

  I’m never going to be buddy-buddy with him. But tonight, seeing how well he can handle himself, I can appreciate him as a person.

  AFTER DROPPING LISA AND Ace off at their respective houses, I finally make it to my oldest brother’s home.

  It’s 1:18 a.m.

  I shut the door quietly and sneak through the kitchen, avoiding the creaky spots in the floor. But just as I cross into the living room, the lights flick on.

  Shit. Blake, Hudson’s wife, peeks over the rim of the sofa, obviously wakened by my lack of ninja skills. Blake and Hudson were married almost twelve years ago, at the age of nineteen and twenty. I was only six. So, with an absentee father, and a mother I’d lost when I was three, Hudson and Blake became my surrogate parents.

  Putting on my cheesiest grin, I turn on my charm. “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Heath?” she calls, her voice groggy.

  “Don’t mind me, I just need a place to crash,” I say, heading toward the stairs. I don’t normally stay at my brother’s place. But tonight, I need something that feels like home. And this is as close as it gets.

  “Wait,” Blake calls.

  I stop and turn back to face her.

  Damn.

  She wraps her 49ers blanket around her shoulders and slips on her bunny slippers, shuffling her feet as she walks toward me. She stops when she reaches me and places the back of her hand against my forehead. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  I shrug.

  “Heath. I practically raised you. Don’t think you can lie to me,” she scolds, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

  I don’t respond.

  “Come on, I’m craving ice cream,” she says and walks back toward the kitchen without waiting for me.

  I groan, throwing my head back, and follow her. I take my phone out and find a text waiting for me. A small flutter starts in the center of my heart as I read it.

  No matter what, I’m always here for you. XOXO.

  I rub a hand over my chest and reread Ace’s text. I quickly respond, telling her not to dream too much about me and add a wink.

  “So, who’s the girl?” Blake cuts through my bubble.

  I quickly lock the phone and grab a bowl of ice cream without looking at her. I concentrate on the white chocolate drizzle and rainbow sprinkles that cover the rocky road ice cream. I grin. This is how Ace always makes her bowl.

  I take a big bite and swallow it whole. Brain freeze, brain freeze.

  Blake chuckles. “When are you going to tell her?”

  I stay silent, because I don’t know how to respond, and take another careful bite.

  She hesitates. “You know she has feelings for you too, right?” She places her bowl in the sink and runs the water before turning back to me.

  My brows fuse together. Is she referring to Ace?

  My feelings for Ace have become muddy, ever since the night I climbed over her window and apologized for punching Vincent. This flip in the pit of my stomach and skip in my step when she takes over my thoughts is something new. Something I’ve never experienced with anyone.

  And when I’d thought she was in another guy’s arms, about to kiss him, everything inside me had felt numb and empty. I can’t tell if it’s jealousy, fear of losing her, or something much deeper . . .

  Maybe I just need to get laid more often.

  “See, right there.” Blake points to my mouth. “You’ve got that dopey grin over a pained expression. It’s nearly impossible to be happy and sad at the same time. Unless you’re in love, and just don’t know it yet.”

  “Blake . . .” Do I deny it? Do I accept it? Even now, I can’t make up my damn mind. “Ace and I, we aren’t in love. That’s totally crazy! She’s my best friend.” And those kinds of feelings might fuck us up.

  She grins.

  I raise a brow.

  “I never mentioned it was Carrigan. Yet, you assumed it was her. I could’ve been talking about Lisa.” She gives me a knowing smile.

  Again, for the third time in the last twenty minutes, I have nothing to say. So I don’t say anything. She walks around and places her hands over my shoulders, giving me a harsh shake. I actually startle.

  “Sometimes, you meet a person and you just click. You’re comfortable with them, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone, or anything, that you’re not.” She lets go of my shoulders and stands next to me, her eyes staring right into mine. “Don’t let love pass you by because you’re too scared to take a chance. For once, throw away all logic, close your eyes, and let your heart lead you. Take that leap of faith with her. I know she would too without a doubt.” She pats my cheek. “You should invite her over sometime. I miss seeing her around.” Then, she walks away.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, and all I see is Ace. Her words ring in my head like a sweet melody: “I’m ready to jump with my eyes closed and you by my side. I trust you. I need you.”

  Blake might be right. Like usual. But even so . . . I shake my head. This is crazy! Ace is my best friend.

  Seconds turn to minutes as that thought runs circles in my head.

  Maybe that’s the best kind of relationship? She does know me inside out. She accepts everything about me—the good, the bad, and the shitty. If there’s one person that fits the puzzle piece that is me, it’s Ace. I drag my hand down my face. God, I can’t believe I’m even considering this. She’s too perfect and I . . . I sigh.

  I’ve done far too many selfish things in my life. Look at what happened to my mom. I’d loved her with everything in me, but it wasn’t enough; she’d paid for my life with her own.

  Fear spikes through me. Thoughts of losing Ace when I get close to her swirl through my mind.

  I can’t… I can’t get close to Ace and risk losing her.

  I open my eyes to find that I’m standing alone in the dark, shaking.

  Damn you, Blake, for filling my heart with hope.

  “YOUR OBSESSION WITH EATING fruit is sick, you know that?” Emily steals another tangerine from my snack bowl.

  Days seem to be flying by like nobody’s business. Between school, cheer competitions, mid-terms, and the senior project, I feel like I’ve been thrown into a grinder. I crack my neck to release the tension in the muscles.

  Vincent and I have been spending more time together as the weeks pass. Not alone time, but time in the shop, or going out to play pool with other people.

  Heath has become distant, of sorts. After that night at the bar, things seem to have shifted. He still talks to me, but . . . maybe I’m being paranoid. A few times, he’s asked me to hang out with him and his friends. Not just us. And when I try to get him to spend time with me, he declines, giving excuses. A day or two passes before he talks to me again.

  Emily nudges me, bringing me back to the moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone gorge on fruit like you do. And you’ve been looking a lot thinner lately, darlin’. Are you feeling alright?”

  I shrug. What else could I do with a father I only really see in the mornings and a talent for burning everything? Sometimes, days would pass while Dad wallowed in the pain of losing Mom, and we’d have nothing to eat. Being in the kitchen reminded him too much of her.

  So, for the first year after her passing, it was either buy fruit at the supermarket, or go on a fast food binge. Fortunately—or unfortunately—Mom had ingrained the concepts of healthy eating and home-cooked meals into me. So fast food was out of the question. Fruit became a necessity back then, a
habit I’d just never changed.

  “Anyway, back to this survey,” Emily says, flipping the pages of her Seventeen magazine, a pen twirling between her fingers like a drummer’s drumsticks.

  I sigh. “Why are you so damn determined to ruin me?”

  She grabs my hand and pulls me down next to her, against the foot of my bed. “Darlin’, you’re doing that all by your merry self. I’m just trying to show you how to undo the damage.”

  “Whatever. I’m pretty sure you’ll fill in the blanks the way you want to, regardless of my response.”

  “I fill them as I see them.”

  “Sure,” I say.

  “I know when I see a shit-for-nothing response. Besides, Iceman likes you likes you. You’re just being an idiot and living in denial. It’s truly tragic.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course he likes me. He’s my best friend.”

  She scoffs. “Honey.” She pats my thigh, giving me a patronizing tilt of her head. “If he watches you the way he does because he’s your best friend, I don’t even want to know how much of a jealous asshole he’s gonna be when you two finally get it on.”

  My heart beats erratically at that possibility. Ever since our talk, my heart’s been battling it out with my head. I’m so confused about all these new emotions I can’t seem to contain. Nerves keep rearing their ugly heads when I’m around him, leaving me a flustered mess. It’s like I’m afraid he knows what I’m thinking, and I really don’t want to mess up what we are.

  I don’t want to lose my best friend because I’m unsure of my feelings.

  But the possibility of him seeing me as something more stirs deliciously in the pit of my stomach . . . I shake my head. She’s wrong. I’m wrong. He said I’m like family. And if there’s one flaw with the Lovelly boys, it’s their fierce need to protect family—especially Blake—no matter the consequences.

  “Question number three.” Emily’s voice brings me out of my deep, confused thoughts. “Do you think your friend is hot?” She arches her eyebrow, her attention falling to me.