Chapter 2
Lacey
“ T hat was so embarrassing,” Sierra grumbles from the passenger seat, but I don’t let the disdain in her voice affect me.
“Good,” I say.
My little sister slouches into the passenger’s seat, folding her arms over her chest and huffing, “God, I hate you so much.”
“I know.”
She’s been singing the same tune since I pulled her out of that club ten minutes ago.
I found her on the dance floor, making out with some guy who had to be at least a decade older than her. He started to protest when I separated them, but he shut his mouth real fast when I told him his dance partner was sixteen years old.
If you ask me, she’s lucky I didn’t drag her out by her hair, and he’s lucky I didn’t sic the cops on his ass for messing around with a minor.
“Why do you always have to ruin everything for me? Jesus, woman, don’t you have a life?”
A bitter laugh rips from my throat.
I did have a life.
Before our dad lost control of his car on a rainy night and plowed right into a truck, killing both himself and the other driver in one fell swoop.
I had a future and plans and freedom. But I gave all that up because that’s what family does. We take care of each other—and yeah, technically, Oliver and Sierra are my half- siblings, but as far as I’m concerned, they’re more my family than my own mother ever was.
Now, my life revolves around them, and I’ve accepted that.
She should, too.
“Dad would’ve never humiliated me like that…” Her voice falls to a whisper. “I wish he was still here.”
Pain rises in my throat.
You and me both, sister.
“Yeah, well, I’m all you got. And it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t go getting knocked up at sixteen.”
Her tone is venomous as she hisses, “Lucky me.”
What she doesn’t realize is she was lucky.
She had an amazing father.
Clark Mattson might not have been a good partner—he got my mom pregnant their last year of college, only to break it off a month after I was born—but he was a good parent. At least, he tried his hardest to be.
When my mom wanted to move to Europe when I was a toddler, he took her to court. Nearly went bankrupt in the process, but he wasn’t about to let her take me away from him.
He was an honest man who got his college girlfriend pregnant and then fell in love with his coworker. Was it ethical? No. But he told my mom as soon as his feelings started to change.
Mom hated his guts after that, something she made clear by constantly bad-mouthing him in front of me, but he never once made me feel like I had to pick a side.
He and Patricia, the coworker in question, had Sierra a few years later. Then they had Oliver. In a cruel twist of fate, Patricia bailed when Oli was two. Gave up all parental rights and moved out to Florida to be with her personal trainer.
I found out shortly after my dad died and we started looking for relatives to take the kids in that Patricia and her beau had passed away in a motorcycle accident a year prior.
“How did you even know where I was?” Sierra asks.
“I called your phone.”
She frowns. “No, you didn’t?”
“Yeah, I did. Some guy picked up.”
She stiffens up, realization crashing into her. She immediately goes through all of her jeans’ pockets, panic stretching across her face when she doesn’t find it.
“My phone!”
She had no idea?
I thought surely she would’ve noticed by now.
She starts to hyperventilate. Someone clearly has a flair for the dramatics.
Tears begin to pool in her eyes. “I must’ve left it at the party. We have to go back!”
I decide to put her out of her misery. “Relax, I know the guy who found it. I asked him to hold on to it. You’ll get your phone back.”
Her eyes widen. “A-Are you serious?”
“Yes. But you’re grounded. No leaving the house except to go to school for a month.”
As expected, she bitches about it for the rest of the drive home. I don’t waver one bit, tuning her out as I’m pulling into our driveway. I push the gear into park and kill the engine before taking my phone out of the car mount.
Sierra’s voice is but a distant echo as we trail to the front door together. “Who the fuck transfers schools right in the middle of the school year, anyway? A freak, that’s who. I’m going to be a fucking reject with no friends and…”
I have no idea what she says next, my focus directed at the text messages that just popped up on my phone.
All from an unknown number.
Unknown
Hey, it’s TJ. Dia gave me your number. Thought you should know I took your sister’s phone home.
Unknown
Oh, and I know exactly how you can repay me.
“Lace! Lace, I need help! I still can’t find Dad’s watch.” The sound of my brother’s frantic footsteps carries across the house, the panic and urgency in his voice growing by the second.
Oliver’s always had a special knack for losing things—he has the attention span of a goldfish and can’t do two things at once to save his life—but if there’s one thing I never thought he’d lose, it’s our dad’s watch.
He’s worn it every day without fail for the past two years. It’s one of the only things he has left of our dad. Only issue is, it’s too big. I’ve asked him many times to let me take it to a watchmaker to get the strap resized, but he’s always refused, saying he wouldn’t feel comfortable without it.
Which brings us to this moment right here.
To the inevitable.
He lost it two days ago. We’ve turned over every couch cushion, searched every nook and cranny of the house, and it still hasn’t come up.
“Be there in a minute,” I shout from the kitchen, checking that the cheese on the lasagna in the oven has melted evenly.
Sierra turns the corner, joining me in the kitchen just as I’m reaching for the oven mitts. “Smells good. I’m starving.”
My sister parks herself next to me and watches as I take the lasagna out of the oven. She notices the set table a moment later.
“What’s with the fancy layout?”
She’s right about the fancy part. I made an effort. Used the nicest silverware and plates we have in honor of Mrs. Harrison, our neighbor and an angel sent from above. If it weren’t for her, I would’ve lost my mind a long time ago.
She’s this lovely widow who lives across the street from us and my go-to whenever I need someone to watch the kids. We got to talking after she brought us a pie to welcome us to the neighborhood, and she mentioned feeling extremely lonely since her husband’s passing.
I invited her inside and introduced her to my siblings. She offered to help me out that same day. The rest is history. She frequently comes over to watch Oli—although I’m starting to think Sierra’s the one needing a babysitter—and thanks to her, I’m able to work weekends and a few nights a week. I wouldn’t be comfortable leaving the kids alone so often.
I set the lasagna down to rest. “Mrs. Harrison’s coming over for lunch. She’s agreed to watch you while I go pick up your phone.”
Sierra rolls her eyes. “That’s going to take, what? An hour? You don’t need to call her every time you go out.”
“Considering I had to drag you out of a club last night, I think I do.”
“Yeah, but that’s not going to happen again. I’m already grounded for a month. I’ve learned my lesson,” Sierra argues.
Does she think I was born yesterday?
I scoff. “Right.”
“I’m serious,” she protests.
“Sure, whatever you say. Can you go make sure Oli isn’t destroying the living room looking for Dad’s watch, please?”
She huffs and puffs but obliges.
“Jesus, Oli!” I hear her shout, and I just know my brother’s turned the living room into a war zone.
“It’s not here,” Oliver snaps, his voice thick with frustration. “Shit, what if I left it at soccer practice?
“You had it when you came home Friday. It’s got to be in the house,” Sierra tells him.
The buzzer of the dryer steals my attention away from their conversation, and I make a beeline for the laundry room. I’m emptying Oli’s clothes into a hamper when the doorbell sounds in the distance.
Mrs. Harrison’s here early.
“Can someone get that?” I call.
Then, I hear something shatter.
Something like glass.
“Oli! What did you do?” Sierra gasps.
I don’t think twice, dropping everything to go assess the damage. I realize my brother’s panic has morphed into anger when I see the hole.
He’s broken the living room window.
“It was an accident, I swear! I was just so angry I… I threw the remote, and it landed in the window.”
Great.
Just what I need today.
Deep breaths, Lacey.
No point in getting angry. What’s done is done.
“It’s fine. You didn’t mean to.”
I’m going to have to call the landlord after lunch. It’ll probably cost me a fortune, but maybe he’ll agree to go half and half on the repairs. God, I hope he won’t take too long to come fix it.
Oli’s features twist with guilt. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know, it’s okay.”
The doorbell goes off again.
“I’ll get it,” I say before heading for the front door.
I told TJ I’d meet him at his house in an hour.
Might as well make that two.
I’ve never been in this part of town before.
I have to admit I was a tad surprised when TJ texted me his address this morning. I knew he’d recently moved back home and out of the party house where he lived all freshman year, but I didn’t think his parents’ place would be that far away from campus.
A text from my landlord comes through right as I’m entering TJ’s neighborhood. He wasn’t picking up earlier, so I texted him a picture of the broken window, and he replied that he knows a guy who could come and fix it for a reasonable price tonight—of course, he’ll add the cost of the repairs to the rent, but what choice do I have?
I study my surroundings as I drive around the area. Houses with boarded-up windows and crumbling exteriors line the road, most of them covered in graffiti.
I always thought a guy as gorgeous as TJ would have the gorgeous house to match. He just has that “rich kid” attitude, you know? That constant, unimpressed expression on his face, as though he’s seen everything.
My assumptions about him are proven wrong when I turn onto his street and come to a slow stop before a gray bungalow with peeling paint and a rusted fence. Crazy how some of the pictures we paint in our heads couldn’t be further from reality.
What I can’t seem to figure out is why TJ would move out of the party house to live here . Not only was the house he shared with Chance, Theo, and Everest much nicer, but it was directly on campus. TJ got a full-ride basketball scholarship to Duke. He has practice almost every day after class. I figured he’d want to spare himself the long commute to school.
As if that wasn’t intriguing enough, no one really knows why he moved out. When the guys asked him about it, all he said was that he had some things to take care of.
Not vague at all.
I’m starting to think being vague is his thing.
I asked him what he had in mind when he texted me that he knew how I could repay him, and he just said he’d tell me in person. I spent most of the night tossing and turning, wondering what to expect.
I inhale a sharp breath, keeping it in for a few extra seconds before releasing the air in my lungs. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. All I have to do is knock on his door, get my sister’s phone back, and leave.
Easy-peasy.
Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll catch him in a generous mood, and he won’t remember that favor I owe him.
The porch creaks so loudly beneath my feet you’d think it’s about to cave. I’m seconds away from knocking when the door swings open and a brunette holding her keys comes bursting out of the house. I barely have time to step aside before she bumps into me.
“Shit, sorry,” she says at the sight of me, casting a brief glance in my direction before jogging down the porch stairs.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, trying to make sense of what I’m witnessing.
Is this the right house?
This girl looks like she’s sixteen. Seventeen, tops. TJ might be a ladies’ man, but he wouldn’t hook up with a high school girl, would he? The thought sends a shiver of disgust down my spine.
“Kelsea, hold up!” a familiar voice says from inside the house.
The next thing I know, a shirtless TJ is stepping out onto the porch, creating a megaphone with his hands and shouting, “Honest to God, you put one scratch on that car, you’re not seeing graduation, you got me?”
Meanwhile, this Kelsea girl is unlocking the door of the black Camry parked across the street.
She rolls her eyes, pulling the door open and crashing into the driver’s seat. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m not fucking kidding, Kelsea.”
She lets out a mocking laugh. “For fuck’s sake, bro, calm your tits.”
Bro?
I had no idea TJ had a sister.
With that said, Kelsea slams the car door, fires up the engine, and takes off at full speed. I don’t get the chance to register what just happened before TJ notices me standing there.
“Oh, hey, Casey.”
I should be glad he called me the wrong name, really. It reminds me of what an epic dickwad he is—something I might be prone to forgetting when he looks like that .
My gaze drops to his tan, sculpted chest and the black jeans sitting an inch too low on his hips, drawing the eye to his accentuated V line.
“It’s Lacey,” I correct him.
He nods. “ Lacey . My bad.”
I bet you a million dollars he won’t remember it in five minutes.
“I’m here to pick up my sister’s phone,” I remind him to be safe. The guy obviously has memory problems.
“Right. Let me go get it.”
I watch him disappear inside the house and come back a minute later.
“Here.” He hands me Sierra’s phone, and I flip it over to check for damage.
Not a scratch.
Thank God. Sierra would’ve never let me hear the end of it.
“Great. Thanks again.” I slip the phone into my jeans’ back pocket and turn to leave. I’m foolish enough to hope he’s going to let me get away with it. Until TJ’s deep voice erupts behind me.
“Now, about that favor…”
Shit .
“Absolutely not.” My answer is a no-brainer.
I should’ve known my past good deeds would come back to bite me in the ass. I swear, you tutor a jock once , and the next thing you know, you have half the team asking for help.
Okay, this might be a slight exaggeration, but I already work and go to school full-time on top of being the equivalent of a single parent, so this guy is batshit crazy if he thinks I have time to help him pass calculus.
I may be excellent at math—something I got from my dad—but whatever efforts I don’t pour into math class have to go into other school subjects. Like literature. My essays just might be the worst things you’d ever have the misfortune of reading—my English lit professor would attest to that.
“Why not? You did it for Chance. A few study dates with you, and the asshole was top of his class.”
“Yeah, because he was dating my best friend at the time. And because he paid me.”
Chance and my best friend Dia went out for a short while our first year of college. He was nice, and he offered me good money in exchange for my help. Our arrangement made sense. This, however, wouldn’t.
A scoff leaves his mouth. “Like you needed the money.”
He really has no idea, does he?
If it weren’t for Daniel, my mom’s husband and my stepfather, sending us money without my mom’s knowledge, my siblings and I would be on the street, going through people’s trash to survive. He’s kind enough to help me out with rent, utility bills, and groceries every month. Anything else—like car expenses, clothes, phone bills, and school supplies—comes out of my paychecks.
I move closer, craning my neck and pinning him with a defying look. Wow, the guy is tall . “Not that it’s any of your business, but I did need the money. Still do, actually.”
He doesn’t seem to buy it, but he doesn’t argue. “Look, if I don’t fix my GPA right the fuck now, they’ll take me off the team. I can’t lose that scholarship. It doesn’t have to be every week. I just need a little help. Then I promise I’ll leave you alone.”
I’d be lying if I said the words “Sucks to be you” weren’t at the forefront of my mind right about now.
I have enough problems as it is. The last thing I need is to get coerced into tutoring a snarky basketball player out of the goodness of my heart.
“Sorry, but no.” I prepare to leave, rising off the kitchen chair. He invited me in so we could chat. But I’ve heard all I needed to hear.
“What happened to you owing me one?” he reminds me, a drop of desperation in his voice, and I let out a laugh.
“You gave me back my sister’s phone. Big deal. I hardly think that obligates me to several hours of free tutoring.” I’m halfway to the entrance of the small bungalow before he can blink.
He scoffs. “Damn, rich girl, you’re cold .”
I glance at him over my shoulder, the confident smirk plastered to his face telling me this is far from over. I wave Sierra’s phone at him and say, “Appreciate the help, though.”
Then I’m out the door.