Chapter 5 We Don’t Have That Problem
WE DON’T HAVE THAT PROBLEM
So far, fifteen has been great. Back home in Victoria, I’d have probably done a big sleepover with my girlfriends—after a day of fishing—as I’d done most years.
But this year, having just moved to a new town, and the only girl I know is Andy, I’d opted out when Mom asked if that’s what I wanted to do.
I’m happy I did, because this is way better.
The sky is a swirl of vivid pink, maroon, and violet as Tate pulls his car into one of the spaces close to the site where some of the guys have already gathered with a few girls.
A fire blazes high from the pit, sparks dancing like fireflies amidst a spray of volcanic magma into the sunset.
My enchantment shatters in a fit of giggles as I watch through the back passenger window as Kevin gets a kind of manic look in his blue eyes.
It’s the kind of look that precedes the loving attack of a dog with a tongue too eager to lick, as he charges an unaware Elijah.
Kevin’s blonde, springy curls, bounce with every step he takes before he connects a shoulder into Elijah’s gut, flipping him over his shoulder.
Then he tips his head back and howls like a wolf to a full moon.
The can of pop Elijah had been holding, thuds to the ground, and even though I can’t hear it through the glass of the window and the rumble of the still-running car, Elijah’s roar somehow sounds between my ears.
“Ah, shit,” Tate sighs. “Kev’s at it again.”
“When is he not at it?” Holt is leaning around me to watch the show. He’s so close, I can feel him even though he’s not touching me. I’m hyper aware of Holt.
Still, I wince when Elijah pummels Kevin with a fist that has got to hurt.
As though the whole scene isn’t bad enough, Andy takes it upon herself to add to the chaos—something I’ve come to expect from her—and cracks an open palm against Elijah’s upturned butt.
Then, with revenge clearly the point, Elijah grabs a fistful of the material that peeks out from under Kevin’s jeans, and he yanks.
I shriek as Kevin drops to the ground with Elijah over his shoulder, the two of them rolling into a tussle of boy limbs on the ground.
Holt slides even closer. My breath catches when his slides over the skin of my bare shoulder. “They’re fine.”
“They’re fighting.” I can’t look away from the flying punches and headlocks.
“Eh, they’re always fighting.” Holt brushes off my worry. “Elijah is in the wrestling league in school, but his dad also owns a Jiu-jitsu studio in town. It’s attached to the gym, so the guy is ripped.” This much is clear. Even at fifteen, Elijah is big. “He won’t hurt Kevin.”
“But he will twist him up like a pretzel,” Tate’s date says from the passenger seat. She’s a pretty girl with long black hair and a warm skin tone I would die for. Her limbs are willowy, and her cheekbones are model high. She’s totally into Tate. “I’ve seen it more than once.”
“Yeah,” Tate agrees. “Kevin likes getting his ass handed to him.”
Holt tugs on my hand. “Let’s go, pretty girl.”
I let Holt lead me from the car to the campsite by the beach. There are a lot more people here than I thought—more than I told Mom and Dad would be here. A quick flutter of anxiety has me squeezing Holt’s hand tighter.
Dipping his chin, his warm brown eyes land on me. “You cool?”
“I thought it was just a few people?”
He stops walking to face me. “You’re not cool.”
“I told Mom and Dad it was a small thing.” I glance out at the beach where there are more people in the water.
“This is—” I laugh nervously. “It’s a party.
I’ve just never been to a party before. At least not like this, by a lake at night, with a bunch of older kids—” Or booze, which I’m positive there is hidden in those cups.
Or—and I’m rambling. Both out loud and in my thoughts.
Holt nods, stepping into me. His voice is sincere as he tips his head to mine.
“If you want, we can ditch. Go back to your place and—” He drags his hand through his hair.
“I don’t know. We can watch a movie or sort your dad’s tackle box with him.
” I laugh, because that’s what Dad had been doing when Holt had come to pick me up.
His eyes soften at the sound, and he wets his lips, a sigh slipping from the deep of his chest to linger in the space between us.
“Honestly, Faye, I don’t care what we do tonight, as long as I’m spending it with you.
So, if you want to go, I’m cool with that.
But if you want to stay, I promise, I’ll keep you out of trouble. ”
This boy.
“I want to stay.” A shiver of delight ripples over my skin at the way he grins down at me. It’s pure, raw joy weaved with what I think might be want. I’m not experienced enough yet with want to know for sure, but that’s what my developing intuition says.
And whatever that look is, I love it. I commit it to memory where I know it’ll never, ever dim.
“Yeah?” Gosh, why does he sound breathless? Why do I like it?
I nod, pulling my lip between my teeth as his eyes drop to watch.
His own lips part and his head begins to slowly shift closer, dip lower.
I think he’s going to kiss me. My heart is in hopeful panic mode.
My skin feels electrified, and I swear, I can feel the touch of warmth from his lips before he even grazes me and then—
“Oomph!” Holt lets out a harsh noise as Micha takes him out.
Disappointment is chased away as Holt and Micha roll down the sandy hill, a tangle of limbs, laughter, and curses. The scent of coconut tells me Andy has moved close, the sound of her voice confirming it when she sighs. “Boys will be boys, eh?”
“Totally.”
“Dumbasses.”
I agree, “Yeah.”
I feel her eyes on me. “So, you and Holt.” It’s not a question.
I slide my eyes from the boys, still locked in boy drama, to Andy. “I guess so.”
She laughs, throwing her head back to do it.
Andy is pretty. No, she’s not pretty. She’s gorgeous.
The kind of gorgeous Mom says is the best. Because right now, you can’t fully see it.
It’s hidden under the youthful spread of uncertainty and insecurity, her vehement rejection of all things pink and sparkly.
She was clearly ‘one of the boys’ and now that she’s starting to fill out, she can’t really be termed ‘one of the guys’ anymore.
She’s in this awkward place between the friend they throw a punch at in hello, and the girl they fantasize about at night.
With her long, wavy brown hair, sharp brown eyes and bone structure to stop a truck, even I can tell she’s only going to get more beautiful as the years pass. I didn’t need Mom to tell me that, even though she did, about two minutes into meeting Andy the first time.
“Well, even if you’re not sure you’re into him, the guy is totally into you. I’ve never seen him so…” Her lips twist and her brow wrinkles in thought.
“So what?”
She lifts a hand covered in henna, the stack of beaded leather bracelets catching firelight as she tucks her hair behind an elven-like ear. “Obsessed?” She shakes her head. “No. Bad word. He’s more like, I don’t know, like he doesn’t want to breathe without you. Not that he can’t, ya know?”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Sure.”
She snorts. She knows I’m lying. “It’s just, usually when he dates a girl, he’s really chill about it. He’s all over you. Tate says as soon as he wakes up, he’s over at your house. He’s usually a pretty quiet guy. I mean, he talks and all that, but not about girls. But he talks about you. A lot.”
I like everything she’s saying. Pleasure hums under my skin. I can’t hide the smile that pulls at my lips. “I like him a lot, too.”
“I sure hope so.” She watches me. “Because if you don’t, I really think his heart might just break.”
I’ve liked Andy from the start, but now I think I love her. “I won’t break his heart.”
“Good.” She looks back to the tussle of guys on the sand. Of course, Kevin has jumped on it. “They’re idiots.”
I can’t help but ask, “Has Holt had a lot of girlfriends?”
“Eh.” She shrugs. “A few. Nothing serious. He went to a couple movies with Shyanne, and I know they kissed. But I don’t think it was much more than that.” Her eyes slide to me. “You should ask him. I’m sure he’d tell you.”
I nod. “I will.”
“She’ll be here tonight. Shyanne, I mean.” Andy’s eyes stay fixed on me. She shifts, stretching her bare feet into the sand and letting the tiny pebbles flow through her burgundy-painted toes. Braided leather she never seems to take off ropes around one tan ankle.
I force a smile. “Cool.”
“You’re not going to hate her on principle?”
I frown. “Why would I?”
Mom says it’s foolish to hate someone because of their past. She says it’s foolish to hate someone based on the words someone else says, a half-baked opinion crafted in someone else’s insecurities.
“Because she had Holt before you,” Andy provides, but there’s a smile on her lips that says she likes my reply.
“Is Shyanne going to hate me because I have him now?”
“Probably, considering you unknowingly stole him away from her.”
I feel my eyes snap wide. “What?”
“They went to a movie the night before you moved to Rubble Ridge. He broke it off the day you moved in.”
I don’t even know what to say to that. I feel bad, but it’s not like I can change it, so I change the subject instead. “What about you and Micha?”
“We’re friends.”
I give her ‘the look’. “You are so not just friends.”
She turns beet red, and I know I’m right. “Shhh, kay?”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“I have the biggest crush on him, but he really does just think we’re friends.”
“I don’t think so. He likes you; I can tell.” How can these two be so oblivious to each other’s feelings?
“He flirts with everyone, it’s just who he is.” She rolls her eyes, brushing off my observation.
“He doesn’t flirt with me.”
“You’re Holt’s.” She deadpans. “He knows better.”
Speaking of Holt, he’s finally clawed his way out of the boy scuffle and is making his way back to us.
He looks deliciously dishevelled, his dark hair a mess.
I can’t help it when heat begins to dance in my belly, erupting into something more than I can describe when he catches me around the waist and tugs my back into his chest.
He’s so much taller than me, I feel so safe in his arms like this. Like the whole world could come tumbling down around us and somehow, I’d stay unscathed, protected by him. I decide that this, right here in his arms, is the best place in the whole world.
He drops his lips to my ear. “Sorry about that. Micha’s an ass.”
“I heard that!” Micha says loudly from where he’s joined the group, looking just as dishevelled as Holt, if not more so. His cheeks are ruddy and I’m pretty sure there’s a bruise forming on his jaw.
I twist in Holt’s arms to get another look at him. No bruise. Good.
“Look what happens when you pick a fight with Holt.” Andy pokes Micha’s budding bruise. “It happens every time and you never learn.”
“You like it when I look all roughed up,” Micha taunts, winking at her.
She rolls her eyes. “I’d like it more if you won, for once.”
“Aww.” Micha grabs for his heart, dropping to his knees dramatically. “You wound me.”
Andy huffs, rolling her eyes again. “As if.”
Micha chuckles, climbing to his feet as he crowds her. “And here I thought you liked patching me up.”
She shoves her hands into his chest, but he’s not deterred. She throws sass. “Watch it or I’ll have to rough you up next, and I think you’ve had enough of that for one night.”
Micha’s eyes glitter. “Oh, baby, don’t tempt me with a good time.”
Andy scoffs, and I twist in Holt’s arms. “How doesn’t she see that he’s totally into her?”
“I have no idea.” Holt’s hand moves down my arm, drawing goosebumps to the surface before he weaves his fingers with mine. He pulls me closer until my front is pressed against his. Inside my chest, my heart pounds a wild and restless beat. “It’s a good thing we don’t have that problem, isn’t it?”
My head tips back so that I can look up at him. “We don’t?”
He shakes his head, a grin in his eyes. “You know I’m crazy about you.”
“Do I?”
The grin in his eye’s spreads to his lips. Then his eyes dip to my lips, stealing my breath. “You need me to show you?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug against him. “Maybe.”
His eyes drift up to mine as his head begins to dip. This time, I just know he’s going to kiss me as he murmurs, “I can do that.”
A crack has a curse slipping from Holt’s lips as his head whips up. Tate is there, and although he’s grinning widely, there’s something dark in his light eyes. Something unsettling that I brush off as he says, “We’re going swimming, asshole. Shoulder wars. Couple on couple.”
My gaze follows Holt’s to the mass of couples down by the water. Some are stripping down to their swimsuits, laughing eagerly. Other’s smack-talk as they run into the water, undeterred by the quickly darkening sky.
Tate’s already ditched, his date at his side, as Holt swings his eyes back to mine. “You want to play?”
“Play what?”
“Shoulder wars.” Holt sounds gruffer than normal as he stares at Tate’s retreating back. “I think Tate’s looking to get his ass kicked tonight.”
I give a single shake of my head. “What are shoulder wars?”
A devilish look overtakes the shadows in his eyes as he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, releasing it slowly in a way that is too attractive. My body instantly responds to it, touched by a warmth that has nothing to do with the remnants of an insanely hot day that clings to the evening air.
Holt doesn’t explain as he links his hand with mine, tugging me toward the beach. “This is going to be fun.”