Craving You (TBX #2) (20 page)

“I don’t want it.” My eyes dart to the grill while my stomach twists with the lie.

“Oh, shut the hell up. Yes, you do,” pipes in my best friend. A little inebriated.

“Look, this totally isn’t my business ... but that boy loves you. It’s written all over his face.” I shake my head, not wanting to believe her. “I’ve known these boys since before their name weighed anything. We’re only friends, Kelsey. That’s all I or any other girl you see him with will be because he wants
you
.”

“Been tryin’ to convince her stubborn ass that,” Brealynn adds before she slurps down her drink.

“He deserves better than me,” I mutter looking down.

“I’m pretty sure he’d say the same about you. What’s up with that? Don’t you know two lost people can find each other and make a home?” she replies in her thick Southern accent.

“That’s so poetic.” Brealynn hums toward Ava. Yup, she’s drunk already.

“I know exactly where I am.”

“I know where you’re not.” Pure lust shoots through my limbs causing them to weaken at the sound of his smooth voice flowing over me. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the time we’ve been apart, but when he takes that tone with me, all husk and gravelly, it hits me straight in the feels. Instead of showing him how he’s affecting me, I roll my eyes. He grips two hands on either side of my body at the chair arms, bending down inches from my face, and finished with, “Underneath me.” The mint of his breath washes across my face causing a shiver to run through me.

I hear a collective gasp and feel the eyes of Ava and Brealynn waiting for my reply. Looking up into his brown depths, I see the flint spark. His mint breath brushing across my face may as well be gasoline; the way it’s seeping into my soul, eager to fuel the dull spark still struggling to survive inside of me.

“Parker.” His name sounds like a plea leaving my lips.

“Shit! Park, come help us!” Colt interrupts. What was I going to say? No idea. My brain quit working with him so close.

Parker whirls around and takes off in a sprint to the grill. The smell hits me before anything, way too much lighter fluid. Ironic, I know. Flames reach out with anger from the grill while the guys try to calm it and scream profanities.

“I told you it didn’t need any more fluid!” Tim yells to Colt.

“It looked like it did!”

“You two girls stop fighting and help me get these burgers off the grill.” Parker intercepts their fight.

“You okay?” Brealynn’s whisper reaches my ears, pulling my eyes away from Parker’s back as he fights the flames.

“I have to be.”

Kelsey

There are five stages of grief:
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance
. However, I live life by my own rules and have my own stages of Kelsey Dealing with Shit:
Avoidance, Anger, more Anger, Numb state, Move on.
Today, I believe I’ve worked my way to more anger.

I’m angry because I care because my fun life is suckin’ right now. I’m angry because the life I’ve worked so hard to have is spinning in the wrong direction.
Quick, someone tell the earth she’s drunk and make her go home.
After working so hard over the years to shield myself from this exact feeling, here I am, caring and shit.

I’m angry because I care.

And that’s exhausting.

Am I crazy? Would life work out if I just gave in to him? No. Because that’s not how life works. That’s not how
my life
works. I learned a long time ago that life is the only bitch you don’t want to backstab.
Karma is even terrified of her.
A knock sounds, pulling me from my internal conflict within myself.

“Come in.” The door swings open to the view of Brealynn.

“You’ve been locked away for five weeks. Get your ass up.” She tugs at my blanket, but I’m ninja fast so I snap it back.

“It’s been two days,” I deadpan, jerking back the blanket, again. Since the cookout and how close Parker came to breaking down the walls—clearly only made of drywall—around my heart, I’ve kept my distance.

“Kelsey Whitten.”

“Brealynn Sutton.” We’re having a stare-off, each of us struggling to hold onto our corner of
my
blanket. She sighs, and just when I think I have her, she pulls and the soft fabric slips through my fingers.

“Ha! I win. Get up,” demands my
questionable
best friend who is full of sass with her hands on her hips.

“Can’t I take a shower?” I moan in annoyance.

“Later. Mom’s on the phone.” She is referring to her mom. It’s then I notice the iPhone clutched in her hand because it’s directly in front of my face. Thank goodness she had the mute button pressed.

With timid hands, I pull the phone out of her grasp and answer the phone. “Hey, Mom.”

“Sweetie.” Her voice causes pictures to rush through my mind. The heavy castle-like front door being the main image; Brea used to always say it made her feel like a princess, locked away, waiting for her knight to come save her.
I always rolled my eyes
. But it stuck with me. I lived in that house four years, and it became more of a home to me than anywhere else I’d lived. “Brealynn says you’re going through a lot right now. Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what
Brealynn
has told you, but everything’s good, Mom.” I glare at Brea for good measure, and Brea just smiles.
Really?
She knows her mom can always talk sense into me.
Ugh
, this was all planned.

“You’re not a very good liar, my dear. Now, who is he?”

“I know.” I sigh heavily and slightly annoyed. “I was talking with this boy, but it’s just not going to work out.”

“Why’s that?” She has a quizzical undertone in her voice that makes me uneasy. At this moment, I’d rather talk about anything other than me, or Parker for that matter. But it looks like
that
isn’t going to happen.

“Feelings. I don’t like them, and when I realized it was becoming more … it was over.” Picking at my blanket, my eyes look up when Brealynn sits down on the bed next to me.

“Says, who?”

“Me.” My voice is strong and final.

“You listen here and listen good.” Oh shit, I’ve done it now. “You deserve a better life than your momma gave you. That’s what we’ve tried doing for you-”

“You did,” I interrupt her, not wanting her to think I’m ungrateful.

“Honey.” It’s sweet, but also a reprimand for cutting her off. “Like I was sayin’, you will be doing your own thing, livin’ your own life. You and Brealynn, both. Us old folk, we won’t always be here, and I want to leave my girls one day knowing they aren’t alone in this sometimes cold world.”

I gasp. “Mom, what are you tryin’ to say?”

“Nothing is wrong, but that’s how life works, sweet pea. Now, if you would allow me to speak without interruption …” She pauses for effect. “Don’t miss out on love, Kelsey. I’m talking about the kick your feet, jump up and down-” She stops, and I swear I can hear her smile over the line, “-screamin’ kind of love.”
Did she just make a sex comment?
“A man who makes you piss mad will make love to you just as passionate. Trust me.”

“Mooooommmm,” I whine.

“Oh, shush. You’re college girls now. I know you’ve heard worse.” She giggles, and I sit on the bed unsure of this side of Mom. “I just want you to be loved as much as you deserve, Kelsey. You do deserve it.” There are the feelings again, popping up when I don’t want them around. Tears prick my eyes before I look down at my Kindle, my eyes scanning over
All or Nothing
, a steamy read by C.C. Wood I picked since I’m not really seeing much action lately.

“Mom, you should see them together.” Brealynn’s voice starts out in hushed awe and gradually rises with her statement. “They’re explosive.”

“Deadly,” I choke out and pull the phone away from her greedy little hands.

“If the sparks fly, love doesn’t lie,” Mom singsongs. “That’s what I’ve always said. If he can flip every switch on, breaking the breakers causing the walls holding him between your heart to fall, then he’s your generator. He’ll keep you alive as long as you give him a reason to.”

“And if he isn’t my generator?” Brea looks at me with a wrinkled brow.

“Then you’re strong enough to rebuild after the dark.” She loves metaphors.

“What’s all this talk about electricity? Is the power out at the beach house?” Brealynn’s dad’s question travels across the line. We all erupt into laughter. “Did I miss the joke again?”

“Just sharing my wisdom.”

“Well, I hate to interrupt that speech, but we need to be going.” His voice is slightly closer. I picture him sitting next to Mom on the couch with his cheeky smile.

“I’ve got to run. Remember what we talked about and I’m always a phone call away if you need me. Love you, girls.” I get what she was preaching, but I’m not that girl she sees. Protecting myself has always been my number one priority; I won’t let some handsome dude come along and make me throw that out of the window.

“We love you, too. Bye.” Hanging up the phone, I turn a threatening stare to Brea.

“You know you love him. I don’t know why you’re tryin’ so hard not to. I just. Don’t. Get. It.” She’s frustrated.

“You wouldn’t get it.” I jump up from my bed, Kindle popping out of my lap, and level my stare with hers. “Growing up in a perfect life, like the perfect princess waiting for her knight to come and save her. You know what I waited for? Safety. Happiness. Not to be scared of the dark and a stable fuckin’ life. Until you, I never had that. I’m sorry if I refuse to hand over my bleeding, pulsing heart so Parker can take the pieces he likes. If I do that, then I won’t have the strength to heal. The heart is the only organ that can’t repair itself. Did you know that? I won’t survive him, Brea.” A forceful sob falls from me.

A rush of air passes by my head before her arms engulf me. “I love you, Kelsey.” With cautious hands, I place mine on her back. Hugs aren’t really her thing, so I’m a bit terrified by it.

“I love you, too. Can we just drop this, please?”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“Then please, just drop it.”

“I can’t make you a promise I won’t keep, but I’ll watch myself.”

I can live with that.

Parker

Unknown Caller

When this flashes across my screen for the third time in the last hour, I grunt with annoyance as I silence my phone. I don’t answer calls that I don’t know. If they want to reach me, they can leave a voicemail or do what any normal human in 2015 would do—text me. My curiosity is piqued, so I wait a few seconds to see if they leave a message this time. They don’t.

Tired feet carry me onto the porch at the same time Kelsey opens the front door.
She’s beautiful
. Stuck in place, my greedy eyes rake over her body. I’m a man,
a sexually deprived man
, so I start with her legs. As I pass over her long and tan slightly covered blue jean thighs, my mouth begins to water. Knitting my brows together while I stare at the button on her shorts, I try to stabilize myself. Above my mark is her tight, exposed stomach. What kind of shirt is that? She’s missing half of it.
Dammit.
When I reach her gray eyes, they are narrowed at me.

“Did you catalog enough for your spank bank?” Her hands are propped on her hips, and she’s full of sass.

“Oh, sweetness, I have plenty of memories to use. They don’t compare to the feel of those sexy legs wrapped around my waist while I fuck the sass right out of you, but they’ll work until I have you craving me again.” Her mouth drops open, and I couldn’t fight the smile on my face even if I tried.

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, redirecting to what she’s good at, being a bitch.

“You look pretty.” Stepping closer to her, the smell of vanilla and sunshine assaults me. Yes, sunshine has a smell, and Kelsey has packaged it for herself.

“Thanks.” The sweetest blush covers her face, tugging at my chest.