33. Bay
THIRTY-THREE
bay
I think Torin Wildes wants to die.
Not only is he standing on my front porch in a black leather coat with a gray flannel underneath it, but he’s holding two bags and a cocky smirk like he’s not in enemy territory without shit to worry about.
“You lost, Pretty Boy?” I greet, leaning my body along the side of the door with my forearm. “This is South Shore.”
“I thought we were forgetting about all that,” he surmises as his amber irises sink and remain locked onto mine. “I brought your sisters and Dad some shit.”
The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand on end at the mention of my father and two little sisters currently playing goldfish in our living room.
He’s the antagonist in this story. His father—stepfather—is the villain.
I’m not a hero, by any means, but I sure as hell will be saving the damn day when it comes to my only living parent who ever gave a shit about me and the twin-pack of twinkies sitting with him.
“I see you’ve been doing your research on me.” I cross my arms over my chest, and Torin notices how not flattered I am.
Meanwhile, he’s unbothered for one.
Figures.
“It’d work in my favor if I knew some things about the girl I’m looking to hang out with more,” he endorses without an ounce of shame or care that he just stalked me to get info.
Or got something to stalk me.
I lift a challenging brow and step through the threshold of the door so Dad doesn’t hear me. The last thing I need is more drama spread thickly on this part of my day. “Just because we fucked in your library and in the backseat of your?—”
“And I can’t get the smell of you—us—out of it, so my cock’s been hard for days, Wildfire. I was hoping I could remedy that and you into an orgasm.”
Geezus Christ.
My body warms at the idea and that night has been on my mind on replay, too. However, I’m risking a lot of my brain cells if I keep having Torin and Reeve fuck them out.
“With my dad in the house.” It’s not a question but an are you fucking serious comment.
But, in true Pretty Boy fashion, Torin gives zero fucks.
“You’ve never fucked around with your parents home before?” He blows air from his perfect lips. “Damn, and here I thought you were badass.”
I shrug dismissively, still not moved by his so-called kind gesture. “Guess not.”
Torin takes a long step toward me, towering over my frame and allowing the smell of fresh cedar and mint to fill my chest. It’s like the cherry on the top with him, seriously. It’s disgusting. “Let me in, baby. I just wanna spend some time with you.”
“Bullshit,” I retort flatly, balling my hands into fists because just saying it makes me sick to my stomach. “And you know if Levi hears about you being in South Shore?—”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not afraid of Wallace? Him and I have been going at it for years.”
I recognized that Torin had balls. I mean, he runs a crew, shows zero mercy to those two people he offed over a damn cliff, and he’s only managed to make my life somewhat of a living hell, but this right here…he’s damn near blinded with power. This isn’t a game. If Levi and I were together, and this wasn’t the plan, Torin wouldn’t be leaving here alive.
Torin doesn’t wait for my response, lifting my chin up by the crook of his index finger and leaning in to press a sweet and chaste kiss to my lips. It’s slow and deliberate, like Prince Charming kissing his princess for the first time and wanting her to fall in love with him.
And before I know it, he transforms back into the dickhead he is, because he used the distraction to weasel his ass between me and the doorway, leaving me standing on the porch like a mind-struck idiot.
“Bay, who’s at—” Mae’s voice suddenly stops from behind me as I whip my head around to locate her standing in the foyer and studying Torin’s body like he’s a foreign object.
He is.
I never brought boys home besides Trav and Levi.
Her sweet blue eyes flick to me before she points at Torin. “Who’s that?”
I force an easy smile and hope it sticks. “This is Torin.”
He bends over, getting on her eye level before crouching down. “Hey, what’s your name?”
My sister steals another glance at me, looking for permission, and I hesitantly nod. If she doesn’t tell him now, he’ll just go find out if his little heart desires.
And that’s if he doesn’t already know that information.
“Mae.”
“Mae,” Torin repeats. “I like that name.”
“Your name is weird.”
Torin chuckles. “Yeah…well, I am a little bit. Ask your sister.”
Mae observes him again, looking for any physical possibility of weirdness before huffing. “I’m hungry.”
The Prince of The Landings opens up one of his bags. “I brought candy.”
“I can’t take candy from strangers.”
“Well, if your sister says it’s okay, do you want some?”
Mae steals a peek in his bag and pushes out her bottom lip. “You don’t have suckers.” Torin actually fucking frowns like it’s the most disappointing thing he’s ever done before her face lights up. “Bay, he has Reese’s. That’s your favorite.”
Torin glimpses over his shoulder at me. “Is it?”
“Anything with peanut butter.” I shrug. “I’ll eat it.”
“So, if I put it on my hard—” My glower gets him to put an end to his inappropriate comment, and he smiles at me. “I was going to say hard-packed ice cream.”
I push off the still opened door and close it. “Sure you were, creep.” I jerk my head for Mae to get away from said sicko. “Go finish up your game with Ellie. We’re eating soon.”
“Okiee…” She pivots and runs off, not interested in Torin’s candy, to my utter amusement, because she’s not so easily swayed either.
Taught them well.
Bows.
Going to the kitchen, Torin follows and places the bags on our small dining room table. “Whatcha makin’?”
“Lasagna.”
“Cairo makes a killer lasagna.”
I turn and lean up against the counter, crossing my arms again because that seems to keep me grounded lately. “Does he now? I wouldn’t trust it because he might poison it.” Torin’s lips heave as he closes the distance between me and him, but I stop that shit before he can get too close. “If my dad looks over here, he’ll see the intruder in his home.”
“He a good shot?”
“Was. Until his stroke.”
Torin bobs his head. “Yeah, I heard about that. How’s that going?”
“You really wanna know about me, Pretty Boy?” He bites down on that bowed bottom lip of his, clearly remembering himself saying the same exact thing to me at the after party of the South Shore fight.
“Clearly,” he deadpans.
“Knowing me means learning weaknesses.”
“I thought you wanted peace.”
“I do. But I’m looking for the twig.”
His face scrunches. “The what?”
“That thing people say with the twig. An olive branch.”
“A branch and a twig are two different things, Wildfire. And you just spewed your first weakness. You know shit about outdoorsy stuff.”
My lips curl into a smile. “Darn. Now you know that when you kill me, a stick would be the best weapon.”
Torin shakes his head. “You need your head examined.”
“Obviously—” I grab the oven mitt off the cheap brown laminate of our countertop. “I slept with you twice.”
His hand clutches my hip as I begin to turn around to check the oven, his body blocking everyone and anything that might see what I’m doing. Those lucid gold eyes suspend me to my spot. “You wanna try for three?”
“Is that what you came here for? Because I can?—”
“I already told you why I’m here. Looking at your ass is just an added bonus.”
My chest flutters nervously because I don’t fully believe him.
I can’t.
Too much is at risk here. And Torin is just the thing that could destroy me, fuck a stick, a branch or a twig.
“Can I check dinner or…” Torin takes a small step back and allows me to do what I need to finish up dinner. He sits at the dining table in Ellie’s chair, intently watching my every move, and I definitely feel the heat of his gaze every time I bend over.
Pig.
Anyway, I get Ellie and Mae fed. Ellie hasn’t stopped eyeballin’ him, even after he introduced himself, suspicious in her own right and mistrusting any newcomer who enters our lives.
Just like me.
We may not be blood related, but it doesn’t change the fact that my sisters have taken after me. That they’ve put their guards up a little in a world that can be so cruel.
Torin comes with me to meet Dad again, and they bullshit about football for a little bit while I grab my bearings from Torin being in my damn house. I’m almost tempted to call Nessa and drag him out of here.
However, he wants a supposed shot, so here it is.
He fucks with my family, I will bury him so deep in the ground, because this is as close to me as you can get.
A knock sounds on the door, and my heart plummets into my stomach.
Levi.
Though, he’d probably know that Torin is here and not make an appearance to keep along with our ruse. However, it doesn’t stop me from eyeing the door like the whole SWAT team is going to bust through it at any minute.
Whipping it open, my heart that was just dragging itself along the bottom of my stomach begins to pulsate back into a brisk beat as Reeve stands on my porch with a plastic bag hanging from his forearm, and a smile that could slice right through a girl’s worst day.
His striking hazels plunge down the front of me while mine mock the same.
He’s in black joggers and a G-Eazy shirt that says Let’s Get Lost on it. That wheat-colored hair that’s aimlessly on top of his head, like he just rolled out of bed, begs me to just run my fingers through it and kiss him like he did to me in the woods.
You got it, you got it bad…
Shut up, Usher.
“Hey, McQueen,” he greets, sliding his mixed greens and browns at me. “You’re lookin’ fine as fuck today.”
Boy, don’t get me started.
I nod to what he’s holding instead and try to keep my face placid. “What’s in the bag?”
“Things,” he deadpans.
“Depending on what things is going to keep this door from slamming into your face.” I pop a brow, and his lips coil into a small smile.
Reaching inside his bag, he pulls out a giant plastic jar of peanut butter. “I heard you’d eat anything with—” My closed fist thrusts into the crook of his shoulder as he laughs and seizes my wrist, pulling me into his space and wrapping said hand around my waist to the middle of my spine.
“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’, baby. I’ve been thinkin’ about you for days now.”
My brows knit because charm, pretty things, and compliments never really worked for me before. All I can think about is the past and how devastating that was for me.
So much so that I haven’t dated since Matteo, and that alone is depressing as fuck.
“You don’t believe me,” Reeve vouches confidently, but holds no amount of animosity in his tone. “You should. I’ve never been a liar.”
“It’s hard to,” I reply, but that’s all I say. I’m not looking to go into a therapy visit with him right now.
“If I kiss you, will that be a lie too?”
“Maybe.”
“Wanna make a bet on that?”
I inhale, that salty mixture of him and the sea settling my nerves. “No.”
“Because I’ll win?”
“Because you can’t pull a truth or a lie out of a kiss.”
Reeve perks a brow. “Like I said, wanna bet?” He closes the void between us.
The kiss is soft and effortless, just like him.
Just not like this situation.
His mouth moves smoothly, like he could do this all day, before his tongue sweeps inside and demands authenticity and sincerity to his words.
I want to believe him.
I’m just not sure I can let my guard down enough to bypass the bullshit of what makes up our lives—South Shore and The Landings. The never-ending middle of what causes violence, death, and uncertainty.
“You think I’m playing you,” he mutters against me. “So, I’m here to tell you that I’m not. There ain’t no rival gangs between us . Just a really good-looking guy and a really hot girl who want to bang until they can’t see straight anymore. I’m not into games, so if you are, just lemme know now.”
“I don’t want to play a game,” I whisper, even though it doesn’t mean I won’t need to. If they are planning to hurt my family because Emilio gave the order—shit, he’s already sent masked men inside my house—all bets are off.
“That’s what I wanna hear, McQueen.” And then he tilts my head up farther to dive right in for the kill.
My legs lose feeling as he battles it out with my tongue. He shoves his feeling right down my throat, stroking and lapsing at my lips like he’s going on a year-long tour over the ocean and won’t be back.
“Better chill, baby,” he lightly scolds me. “You keep tryin’ to eat me alive, I’m gonna think you want me to spread this peanut butter all over both of our bodies.”
I press another kiss to his lips, and he greedily takes more. “You into peanut butter, Reevie?”
“I’m into anything dripped or slathered on you, baby. Anything but mayo, because I will literally puke all over you.” I chuckle as he steals another kiss before slapping my ass. “Get inside. I brought suckers for your little sister.”
Torin.
Yeah…if these boys are playing me, I’m fucked.