Wasn’t the ache in her heart supposed to heal itself? No matter what the therapist,
her parents, or friends tried to convince her of, her brother was in that stupid wheel
chair because of her.
A change seemed to crawl over David’s face the longer she stared down at him.
Despondency appeared in his dulled eyes. A sense of sorrow seemed to be pulling down
the
edges of his lips. He looked so defeated that Harley had to stifle the sob building
deep in her throat.
With one hand gripping her neck and the other one covering her mouth, Harley watched
as her usually untouched by sorrow, twin brother, rubbed the palms of his hands, silently
across his upper thighs. His eyes were dry, but lifeless, and no words, other than
lost and longing
, could describe how he appeared as he stared down at the empty spot where his left
leg once was.
Harley held her breath, tiptoeing towards his chair, leery of what he’d say when she
offered up the comfort she was dying to show him. She crouched low on the white tile,
as she settled one of her trembling hands on top of his fingers. She gripped his knuckles,
pouring her love through him with that one simple gesture. She’d never physically
apologized for what she’d done to him, never apologized for ruining his life either.
But she
could
apologize for not being there for him the way she should have been.
Luckily, no words were needed as her brother peered down at her. A sad, knowing smile
passed over his mouth, while his way-too-feminine-to-be-male eye lashes blinked once
… twice
… three times in what she hoped was acceptance of her non-verbal version of an apology.
As twins, they shared a weird ability to silently communicate with one another without
words, and in that moment, Harley had never been more thankful for it.
It was about time it came in handy.
Harley needed him to know that she should have been the one in that chair instead
him.
Not the star athlete. Not the boy who everyone adored. Not the boy whose smile infected
everyone around him with a plague of happiness. It was Harley’s selfishness that created
this mess, and no matter what, she’d be the one that would
fix it.
“This … is a football stadium?” Mason Daniel squinted, glaring over at the lighted
field
to his right. Maisy, his little sister, huffed in the passenger seat as they pulled
into one of the remaining parking spots in the gravel lot. He grimaced, glancing between
the girl he’d do
anything for, and the place he’d rather avoid altogether.
She was lucky he was in a good mood.
It was like another universe there in Hillsdale, Nebraska, and Mason could already
tell
the town was not for him. Any town that sold eggs on the side of the road was bound
to be shitty.
“It’s not so bad, Mason. The field is huge,” she gestured with an infectious giddiness
in
her voice. All Mason did was frown harder at her. “I think it might be even better
than the one at home in Santa Cruz!” Maisy held her hands to her chest as she excitedly
popped from the car. He shook his head, watching her bounce outside the door, struggling
to hold back his smart ass comment about what he actually thought of that field.
Cows and manure … yup, that’s all it needed
.
“Alright, mouse, let’s get this over with.” He stepped out of his black baby, locking
the
doors behind them. He rubbed the top of the sleek hood, pride radiating through him.
He loved his car. He loved the back seat even more.
He lifted his head, frowning once again as he stared at the ticket booth. Hell awaited
him
behind those gates, and he wasn’t looking forward to visiting.
“Please don’t call me ‘mouse’. I’m not ten anymore, Mase. I’m fifteen. And look,”
she
gasped, holding her hands under her chest, “I’ve even got these fabulous boobs to
prove it!”
Mason slapped his hands over his eyes and groaned. Damn her … she was too much.
Yeah, he knew she was growing like a weed, but the constant reminders definitely didn’t
need to be reiterated like
that.
Christ!
“Besides, you know that this new school is exactly what we need to start over again.”
She
continued on her with little tangent, throwing her hands around in obvious effect.
Mason shook his head and laughed. She was the spastic queen, and he was sure there
was an Oscar out there with her name on it.
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying here, Mase? Because you’re kinda spacing
out
on me…” Mason shrugged, wrapping a loose arm around her shoulders. He didn’t want
to be
there, that was obvious, but his dramatic as all hell little sister had begged him
for a ride. He could never say no to the girl.
Mason grabbed their game tickets a few minutes later, shaking his head as the ink
glared
back at him. Hillsdale vs. Ridgville … nice. He tucked them into his pocket and shook
his head.
Who in the hell handed out
tickets
to a high school football game anyways?
Maisy skipped away, squealing like a banshee when she came upon her new little group
of friends. He scratched his chin, watching them all hug and squeak. Girls were sexy
creatures …
as long as they didn’t act like that.
Really though, leave it to his sister to make friends in this town within the first
week of living there. She was a damn social butterfly. Social butterflies drove him
nuts.
But Mason making friends? Hah! That wasn’t going to happen. Staying scarce was the
only thing on his agenda while living in Hillsdale, Nebraska for the next four months
because the moment he turned eighteen he was out of there. Not a damn thing was going
to hold him back.
Santa Cruz was his home. And there was
no way in hell
that he’d finish up his senior year in corn town, USA. The only reason he came at
all was so Maisy could start over and leave the bad
memories behind in order to create some new ones. He was fine with the bad memories.
Well, most of them…
“Hey mouse,” Mason called out to his sister, smirking when her backside stiffened.
“I’ll
come find you at half-time, okay?” She responded with the flick of her hand over her
shoulder.
He shook his head. She was apparently too good for him now.
Her new friends, on the other hand, giggled in unison at him, like he was the funniest
thing they’d ever seen. Mason grinned back of course, adding in a wink too. What kind
of guy would he be if he didn’t wink? Of course, they all sighed, staring back at
him as if he was that shiny new toy they all wanted to play with but couldn’t afford
to buy. Maisy though, whipped her head towards him like the exorcist, mouthing the
words, “Go the F away.” Her narrowed
blue eyes would probably shoot daggers at him in a heartbeat if she could. He shrugged.
Yeah, he knew how badly he pissed her off, but did he care? Nope, not a damn bit.
Hell, he
lived
to antagonize her. It was his brotherly duty for God’s sake!
He meandered around the crowd, heading towards the bleachers. The night air was extra
warm for October. Still, he stuck his hands in his pants pockets just to keep them
occupied. His focus was on nothing in particular, gazing at his soon to be peers,
rolling his eyes at their cheering voices.
Damn small towns and their football games.
But after a few more feet of walking along the black tar pavement, something shiny
caught his eye, and with an unknown urge tugging at his gut, he bent over and picked
it up. He held it in his palm noting first how smooth it felt under his fingertip.
He shrugged, turning it over, only to see the engraved letter H stamped out on the
back. He pocketed it and headed
toward the concession stand to turn it in. His one good humanitarian act of the year
was
apparently under way.
But plans changed, when his ears were bombarded with the sweetest little voice spilling
out the nastiest little words. He turned in a full circle just to face the noise.
“Son of a mother humper…”
Mason’s brows knitted together as he focused on the source of the funny words. His
gut
tightened as a vision in white came into view. He grinned slowly, wickedly, just as
two long shapely legs stretched out from beneath the bleachers. That ass, covered
with frilly, tight lace, was wiggling something fierce as she continued on with her
stream of naughty words.
For once in his life, Mason couldn’t talk, couldn’t say a damn word. His throat was
closed off. And he was officially speechless.
“Abigail, give me a hand here, would you please? I can’t find the stupid ass key ring
that
was attached to my wristlet.” The frustrated voice called out to her friend.
Key ring huh? He grinned, fingering it in his pocket. Apparently the little owner
of his
silver discovery had been found.
Mason inched closer, not caring about being noticed any longer. This damsel in distress
was too intriguing to deny. “Abigail, are you listening? Ah-ha, I think I see it now!
I just gotta get in here … a little bit farther and … oh shit.”
Mason’s crossed his arms in front of him, eyes narrowing in curiosity. What was up
with
the potty mouth angel this time? He leaned back against a nearby light post, crossing
his legs at his ankles, wanting nothing more than to see what trouble she’d run into.
Her friend finally seemed to notice him. Hell, her ogling eyes practically burned
a hole through his body. But the only thing he was interested in, was putting a face
to the voice and cute little, white covered ass.
His curiosity needed to be sated, badly…
“I cannot believe this is happening to me! God hates me, I know it! I should have
just
stayed home with David and watched reruns of that zombie show he likes so much. But
no, I
decided to come to this God forsaken game instead,” she grumbled, brushing her hands
together as she rose to her feet. Mason stood up a little straighter. Anticipation
was not exactly his strong suit. “Now the one and only skirt I own is ripped and my
hand is covered in either mud … or …
ugh, I don’t even want to
think
about the alternative.”
Mason’s heart raced, his hands trembled. His mouth went dry. Finally, she turned around,
and shit … there was no way he could tear his eyes away at that point.
Damn, when had he turned into a creeper?
Her profile appeared first as she dug her slender hand into some wallet thingy. And
then
boom, she finally glanced up at him.
He gaped, and then he blinked. Holy … shit … the girl … was a goddess
.
His body numbed, his eyes bugged from his head. The breath in his chest was lost in
that
stunned sort of way, just as the sexy as sin creature, with the chocolate brown eyes,
glared back at him. Mason blinked again, this time his jaw practically became unhinged.
He knew he should look away, or maybe at least wipe the drool hanging from his mouth,
but he was too frozen in place to a damn thing.
“What the hell are you staring at?” she snarled. Her upper lip curled on one side,
Elvis
style.
Damn… Who knew grimaces could be so sexy? She owned that grimace – worked it like
it was her sex slave. Like a love sick puppy, Mason found himself grinning back at
her, only to get assaulted with more nasty words from that pretty full-lipped mouth.
“Umm, are you going to answer me sometime tonight, pal, or are you just going to stand
there, grinning like the idiot you most likely are?” She finished wiping off her hands
with some sort of napkin before she moved in closer, stalking him with fierceness
in her hateful eyes.
The site of her body coming near should have had Mason running, but he didn’t.
Couldn’t was the better word. He needed to be near her. Hell, he needed to touch her…
He
tucked his hands back in his pockets to keep from doing just that. He had to get control
before he did something stupid.
“I couldn’t help but notice your little problem, so I thought I’d be your knight in
shining armor tonight…” he winked. God, where did all his game go? He wanted to smack
his
own
face, but he was too distracted by the sudden appearance of her barely there freckles
across her cream colored skin. In fact, the closer she got to him, the harder he tightened
his fists to fight off the freakish urge to reach out and play connect the dots with
them.
He shook his head, clearing his pussy thoughts, taking a breath to steady his voice
at the
same time. He wiped a damp palm down the front of his face. There was no way some
little
Midwestern girl, with hair that resembled midnight ocean waves, was going to get to
him.
“Wow, I’ve got my own very own hero here, Abs. Why ever didn’t you tell me?” She
tried her hand at an Alabama drawl, fanning her face at the same time. Her attitude
should have turned him off, but damn if it didn’t draw him in more.
“Hey now, no need to get an attitude with me, little beast,” he replied, digging the
lost
key chain from his pocket. Her eyes narrowed down at his hands, reaching out to swipe
it from him. He grinned, holding it above his head. No way was he letting it go that
easily.
It was play time.
“Uh, uh, uh … not so fast,” he shot her what had been called his panty dropping smile
while shaking the silver thing back and forth in a hypnotizing motion. “Don’t I deserve
a thank-you or maybe even a little kiss for coming to your rescue?”
She gaped up at him. She looked like he’d just kicked her puppy. Her lips pulled down
harder; she’d get early, onset wrinkles if she kept that up. Her quick witted and
snarky attitude came back with a vengeance though. He wasn’t surprised. Hell, he already
liked it, expected it.