Always the One, page 13
part #1 of Always and Forever Series
Shayla
I’M PULLED FROM A deep sleep to a sound coming from the wall above my headboard. It’s a pounding noise followed by loud noises. It sounds like someone’s yelling or shouting. I shoot out of bed when I realize Lana’s room is on the other side, causing me to feel instant panic. The only time I have ever heard her yell or scream is when she was with Joel, or at the hands of Joel. I don’t have time to think. I just go. My feet hit the ground and I push off the bed.
Before I can get my butt off the bed, my arm is grasped and I’m pulled back abruptly, causing worry to set in. Did he bring someone with him, to keep me down while he got her? That asshat should be locked up. How did he get out? My mind instantly wants to scream for Trey. Where is he? I remember falling asleep with him behind me, keeping me spooned and warm.
My question is answered and my fear put to rest when I hear that smooth, deep voice coming from the spot next to me. “Baby, shh. It’s okay. It’s just Lana and Kings.” I calm down enough to turn and look at him lying on the bed. He has his pajama clad legs folded, one over the other, and one arm behind his head, leaving all his muscles and defined edges on display. He has a firm grip on my wrist, holding me to him. I’m so glad it wasn’t what I thought it was, I was so scared. This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up in a panic, most often after a nightmare. Typically, I’ll poke my head in to check on Lana, breathing a sigh of relief when she’s perfectly safe sleeping away.
“Wait, you mean?” I stop, listening closely as I hear more clearly what Lana’s saying, well, moaning. Oh my God, I freaked out over thinking she was being attacked when really they’re just having sex and I mean sex. Like wild sex, they are moaning like they’re singing in the opera.
“Yep, how do you think I feel?” Trey says. A laugh escapes my sealed lips, making a spitting noise, and I quickly cover my mouth with my hand.
“Oh—my—God. I’ve never heard them, you know, doing that before,” I state, still covering my mouth in horror. I mean that’s my best friend and my brother!
“Your brother knows the fucking guy code. Keep it the fuck down, you two!” I’m thrown into a fit of laughter when Trey bangs on the wall. The knock does nothing to stop them. In fact, the moaning gets louder.
“Okay, ew. That’s my brother,” I state, getting up and walking to the bathroom. The farther away the better.
“What time is it?” I ask, flipping on the lights in the bathroom and making work of washing my face, hoping the water will drown out the sound. Picking up the toothbrush, I cover the top with toothpaste and smile when I feel my favorite arms wrap around my waist.
“It’s one thirty,” he announces himself, stepping into the bathroom and approaching me from behind. He starts to kiss my neck and sway us back and forth. Brushing my teeth just got better and even more sexy, I like it.
“They can’t go on forever. They have to be done soon, right?” I ask around the brush in my mouth, focusing on my front teeth when he replies.
“If it were you and me—no.”
My eyes widen and he starts to remove my nightgown strap. My little nighty barely covers my body as it is, so when the straps fall he gets an eyeful. My breasts feel heavy in his hands when he palms them with his warm touch.
“I could fuck you all night long, if you’d be able to handle it, baby.”
I separate my mind and libido in a flash, remembering the fact that my brother’s a room away, having sex. As sexy as Trey is, I can’t do this when that’s happening within earshot, it’s too weird. Lifting my straps to my nighty back up, I spit out my toothpaste and rinse my mouth before turning to him.
“Trey, you can’t say things like that.” He continues to kiss my collarbone, leaning down to meet my small frame.
He’s so tall, so manly.
I need a cold shower.
When he’s like this, it’s like a feral lion; he’ll get what he wants. I may think I have control of the situation, but that dissipates when his warm mouth connects with my nipple. I didn’t even notice that he pulled my straps down again.
“Trey…” I moan, giving into his sweet torture.
“That’s what I thought, beautiful.”
God this feels so good.
Wait, no, bad Shayla.
Pour some ice on this sexy man, I scold myself internally. When he nibbles my nipple and lifts his head slightly to attack my other breast, I make my move. Pushing him by his chest, I run for the bedroom, pulling my straps back up before I jump on the bed, throwing myself under the blankets. Expecting him to get me before I even make the clearing. When he doesn’t, I peek my head out just enough that my eyes are the only things showing. He’s leaning against the bathroom door, one hand is teasing the stubble on his chin as he rubs it in a back and forth motion over his jaw. The light behind him frames his body and causes the slightest shadow on his face. God that face. It’s heaven sent. Literally, angels sing when he opens his beautiful blues in the morning.
“You know what happens to bad little minxes like you?” He starts walking toward me, and I watch his hand as it runs along the lines of his abs.
“No,” I answer, almost not recognizing my own voice. It was more like a whimper. You are a pansy, Shay.
He leans over the bed on his balled fists, his bulging biceps look more noticeable and so do the sexy veins that line them. “They get spanked.”
Hello!
I should misbehave more often.
“But that will have to wait until tomorrow. We have to leave in a few hours and I’m sleepy.”
I’m so wound up and turned on, I’m almost pissed he just ended our teasing cold turkey style. I thought for certain we were going to mess around. Once again, whose idea was it to drive? I move over to let him in the bed, still peeved that he just teased me and made me wet, then stopped like ice water rained down on him.
He pulls me into him and molds our bodies together, and like nothing happened at all, he says good night and is out like a light.
Jerk.
Eventually, I stew myself to sleep, knowing I will definitely give him payback for that number.
“CAN WE STOP TO get some snacks for the trip?” I ask excitedly, crisscrossing my legs on my seat. Trey’s rental car is huge so my crossed legs fit on the seat perfectly. I’m actually thinking this road trip may not be as hard as I anticipated it to be.
“Yes, beautiful.” Simplicity, that’s all he needs to do and I can be content. He looks mouthwatering, sporting a cream long-sleeved shirt. The deep cut of the un-buttoned V-neck show the indent between his pecs. It complements his dark blue jeans and boots. It’s simple, but also the hottest thing that I get to stare at all day.
“Thanks!” I’m giddy and he laughs at me for it.
“Wait here, and I’ll run in. I’m going to surprise you.” He leans across and places a quick kiss on my cheek.
“Oh, a surprise, good luck!” He winks and heads into the store.
When he’s out of eyesight, I look around, spotting a couple fighting by the pay phone. I’m the worst when it comes to people watching, so I feel no shame when I roll the window down a tiny bit to hear what they’re saying.
“You texted her back? You are such a jerk.” Ouch, cheating bastard, you tell ’em, girl.
“Come on, sexy, it was just one text. You know I love you, cinnamon apple.”
Ha! Did he just call her ‘cinnamon apple?’ No way.
Sometimes I wonder how in the world people think they sound normal and how in the heck they wound up together. They exchange a few more cheap and cheesy lines before she’s putty in his hands and they’re all over each other. Bees to honey, or in their case, flies to shit.
“Those two weirdos, right?” Trey says, jumping into the car and placing the bag on his lap.
“Yeah, babe, he called her his ‘cinnamon apple.’” I laugh when he looks like I just made this up, he shakes his head then joins in on the laugh.
“Some people, I swear. Anyway…” He changes the subject and digs into the plastic bag. “I got all the classics for project best road trip ever. I also probably won best boyfriend, again, because I got all your favorites, babe.” He’s so cute when he’s excited. Let’s see how good he did.
“Peanut M&M’s because you’re my nut.” He winks at me, and I reply with my own sarcasm.
“Oh, you are just so thoughtful, aren’t you?”
“That sarcasm and smart talk is exactly why I got you the next item. Sour Trolli worms. I got these because you taste sweet and you have a sassy attitude, making you a touch of sour. Boom. Mic drop!” He makes a motion with his hand, signaling a mic dropping. “But, I also got them because I know they’re your favorite. Remember Friday night, movie night? When we were in high school?”
I take the pack from his hand. “How could I forget? I loved it when you and Lana would come watch movies with Kings and me. I looked forward to it. I just can’t believe you remember,” I reply, opening the bag and grabbing a red and blue worm, my favorite.
“Are you kidding? I would bring them every time and you were the only one to eat them. So, I kept bringing them and you would eat the entire bag.” He flicks the bag in my hand.
“I actually always wondered where they went, convinced you would get fat. Then you turned around one day and I said, ‘Oh, there they are.’”
I smack his chest; he did not just tell me I have a fat ass!
“Trey!”
Placing his hand on my wrist, he stops me from making contact with his chest for a second smack, then he continues, “Those things did their job. That ass isn’t fat; it’s round and tight. These big hand needs to be filled.”
Crude much? That still makes my body react though. I love when he grabs my butt.
“Nice save, buddy. Nice.”
“Give me a kiss with those pouty lips.”
Rolling my eyes like a sucker, I give in to my boyfriend’s cheesy charm—again.
“You know how much those Friday night movies saved me?” I ask when we get back on the highway. The trees passing us hold my focus.
“From your mom?” he questions. Nodding, I bite my lip and try to hold back the tears.
“Hey, talk to me, Shay.” I want to talk to him, but I need to rein my emotions back in. My mother and father have been divorced since I was sixteen years old. The split happened after years of my mother using and neglecting my father. Between the affairs and her narcissistic, self-righteous choices, they finally decided to divorce.
Where most families would separate and spend one week here and one week there, I didn’t have to do that. My mom was too busy with boyfriends to care about me, stopping by every Sunday to rub her newest fling in my dad’s face instead of spending time with me.
She wasn’t the only problem though. My dad did everything for her because he was still in love with her. Still is actually, and probably always will be. I can’t help but feel embarrassed that the simple reminder of our movie nights caused me to get so emotional. But in all honesty, it really did help me, we shared so many laughs and it was the perfect distraction from the shit-storm that was my life at the time.
“I never understood why my parents were like that.” He puts his hand on mine, where it’s resting on my thigh. I drag my eyes from the window to where his covers mine. His hand shields mine completely and it feels like a blanket of strength.
“Because she’s selfish.”
Right, selfish. I forgot that word.
“Yeah, but it still didn’t make it okay to treat him that way, and then make her scheduled visits miserable and revolve around her.” Flipping his hand under mine, he joins our hands and squeezes.
“You don’t talk about her much. When’s the last time you saw or spoke to her?” He’s right, moving to Seattle got me away from her. My dad, however, followed me there, moving himself to Portland, which isn’t too far from me. My dad’s my best friend. He is so kind, loving, and a big teddy bear. Tom Donovan is the greatest man to ever love me, and I’m not reluctant to say that I am a daddy’s girl through and through. Moving with us was his way of saying sorry for trying to keep Mom for so long, even though it was bad for us all.
“I haven’t seen her since the day before we left for Seattle. I’ve called her maybe twice.”
“Were they long calls?” He hasn’t looked at me yet and I’m thankful, I need the privacy.
“Yeah, but surprise, it was forty minutes of nothing but talking about her.” He stays quiet, letting me stew, getting it all out. I don’t want to talk about her anymore. She’s not around enough to affect me like she used to.
“I haven’t talked to my dad all week. I’m not sure how to tell him about you,” I state, biting my lip and changing the subject. Trey’s eyes shoot over to me for a brief second, shock written all over his face. Not even his sunglasses can hide his facial expression.
“Why?”
I would think he’d know my dad is aware of his past. But instead, he’s looking at me completely dumbfounded. “Really? I don’t know, because I’m his little girl and you’re my first boyfriend and other things.” Coolly saying the last part, hoping he doesn’t catch on.
“What other things?” He switches lanes smoothly.
I concentrate on staring at the dashboard, with great purpose, avoiding his side profile. “We grew up together and all he’s ever known you to be is the player who ran around with Kingston…” I don’t want to make him feel like crap for his past, but it is what it is.
“Do you mean to tell me your dad thinks I’m a horny slut who spent all my adolescent days screwing around?”
Maybe not in those words.
“Well, kinda.”
I feel bad for bringing this up, but better now than later, right?
“He wouldn’t say that, but he wasn’t born yesterday. He raised Kingston for heaven’s sake, so he knows what kind of…stuff you guys did.” I wasn’t clueless to his promiscuous days, but I sure don’t like thinking or talking about it.
“But your dad and I always got along. Shit, we used to laugh about all that shit together. We were bros, babe.” His voice is quiet, a voice of someone reminiscing on good times. This really is upsetting him.
“Honey, that was before you were dating his daughter.” His hand leaves mine for a quick second so he can rub his chin in thought. Before returning it back to my hand.
“True. Shit, maybe you should wait to tell him.” He doesn’t do a good job of hiding his disappointment, it’s apparent on his face.
“Trey, I’m going to tell him when we get home, okay?” He shakes his head in surrender.
“How about some music?” I plug my phone into the aux cord and turn on iTunes, letting the first song start. This is too much heavy for what’s supposed to be a fun road trip.
After a few songs pass, he starts to loosen back up. Every once in awhile we exchange a laugh or thought, but for the most part it turns into comfortable silence and I doze off to sleep.
“KINGS, HELP ME UP!” I yell at my big brother, hoping he will let me up in his tree house. He only lets the other big kids up there with him. Well, the boys that it is, but sometimes he lets me up there. That’s because we’re best friends.
“Hey, do you think he’ll let me up there, too?” I look over and see Lana. She’s the one who helped me after I fell off the monkey bars last week. I had no idea how she knew where I lived.
“I don’t know, he really only lets older boys in there. I’m the only girl who he lets come up because I’m his sister.” We look up to the tree house at the same time, and when we see the boys laughing at us, I look back to her.
“Don’t mind them, they’re just big meanies. How did you know where I lived?”
“Me and my family just moved in down the street. I heard a bunch of noise and saw some other kids running over here, so I followed them.”
I laugh because she’s funny, not like all the other girls around here. She’s more fun.
“Cool, that means you can hang out with me. I’ll get us in the tree house. My brother will have to let you in since you’re my friend. Thanks for helping me the other day, I was so embarrassed when the other kids saw.” She just smiles and shrugs her shoulders.
I shout up at my brother again, hoping he will hear me over all the other little toads that are up in the tree house.
“Kings, can me and my new friend Lana come up please?” Usually eleven year olds don’t hang out in tree houses, but my dad went all out with this one. He put a TV, radio, and fridge inside. He’s the best dad around.
“No girls allowed, sorry.” I look up and see a face that I haven’t seen before.
“Who are you? Do you know who I am?” I say, putting my hand on my hip and pushing up my glasses with the other. He starts to climb down, and when he jumps down from the last two steps, I stand back when he turns and towers over me. This is a big guy, holy smokes. His eyes are what scare me the most, they’re so blue and he’s looking at me with a serious face.
“No, who are you?”
For an eleven-year-old, he sure is a jerk.
“I’m Shayla, and that’s my brother’s tree house, so you better let us up or—”
“Or what, you going to tattle on me?” he asks, squinting his eyes.
“Well, I mean, I could, you know—”
“Yeah, loser, she will and she will kick you in the butt, too. So move over and let us up.” I look at Lana and I’m happy that she was here to stick up for me again. I think she’s my new best friend.
“Nah, she wouldn’t tattle on me, she wants to be my friend too much. So I’ll let you go this time,” he says.
“Are you fucking with my sister?” my brother yells down at us, and we all look up at him.
Lana eyes get as big as saucers and she whispers to me, “Your brother has a potty mouth.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I shake my head and respond, “You’ll get used to it.” I look back to the boy in front of me.
