Still Creek (The Cove Series Book 2) Read online

  A wet nose bumps my leg; I reach down to pat Lulu’s head. “Hey, girl. I know, I like her too. But it’s just us.” Turning to look at her, I kneel in front of her. “Don’t look so sad. We’re good together, we don’t need a mommy for you,” I say as I scratch her head. She licks my face before I stand to grab my things for a shower.

  I’ve stood in front of my closet for thirty minutes and still can’t decide on clothes. Who the hell am I? Who have I become? I’m not the man to wage a fashion war before I go out the door. I’m a ripped jean, band shirt, and hat, kinda guy.

  Shaking my head, I grab my best jeans and a button-up shirt. I hit the shirt a few times with my favorite cologne and grab my keys on the way out. A big brown truck sits at the end of my driveway. I’m certainly happy to see it.

  “Hey, man. Please tell me you have my corner panel?” Smiling as I ask. His reply makes me smile bigger.

  “Hardy, I do believe I do. How’s she coming?” he asks. Knowing how long it took me to find this for my baby, he’s almost as invested as I am.

  “Just this and the interior before she goes to paint. I can’t wait to tear up the strip in her,” I reply with a huge grin.

  “Heard that, man. Can’t wait to see her.” He waves as he pulls away. Good dude.

  I head up Ocean Boulevard with a few minutes to spare. So against my better judgment, I whip into a parking spot and hit up this cool little specialty shop.

  What am I looking for? Absolutely no clue. I’m open to suggestions. So I look around. Trying to find something that hits the nail on the head. After a few minutes, I spot it.

  Package in hand, I hit the road again. Although, I’m now late. I’m sure it’ll not be a problem or at least I hope it won’t. Sitting at a traffic light, I keep replaying all that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours. Lost in thought, it takes a horn behind me to make me move.

  My lifted Chevy Silverado would be all kinds of outta place if it wasn’t for the place I was going. Never ones to judge, I love these people like no one else. Years of foster homes and street living taught me the appreciation of good friends.

  Twenty-five years ago, I lost my parents in a car accident. Seven years later, I lost my only grandparent to natural causes. It left me with no one at the age of ten. Put into state care until I was placed into a foster home, I would have rather been left in the state orphanage.

  Moving from home to home every few months—sometimes more often—was tiring. By the time I became a teen, I’d had enough of wannabe mommies and asshole daddies. The streets became my home.

  My first foster home introduced me to my best friend. Eighteen years later, our friendship is still going strong. Yeah, we lost touch every once in a while, but each time we met up again, it was like old times.

  I grew up in Raleigh and was there the greater part of my life. Never really far from the area until I was sixteen when I moved to Charleston, South Carolina. Being in Charleston changed my life forever.

  At one time, I thought of it as a curse. Living the way I did as a kid was bad, but Charleston and the events it held, were even worse. Now, I can say I’m happy I made it out alive. Some weren’t so lucky.

  Pulling up to the gate of the sprawling coastal mansion, I hit the speaker for someone to let me in. The gates open slowly without me even saying a word. I’ve been here many times, but today is different.

  Checking myself in the rearview mirror, I step from my truck with the trinket in my pocket. No way was I going to make a show of giving this away. Not today. I’ll be happy not to shit my pants from nerves.

  Steadying myself, I take a few more deep breaths. Taking two steps, I stop as I catch my reflection in the side of my black truck. A few minutes later, I’ve straightened my clothes and situated my hair.

  My cell vibrates with an incoming text about the time I hit the top step. Pulling it from my pocket, I’m told everyone’s around back. Retracing my steps, I’m back down the main entrance quickly. Slowing my pace to calm my nerves, I work my way around the side of the house to the back gate.

  Pushing it open, I look around first. No sign of the special guest, so I step on in silently praying this goes as planned. Or at least, as well as it can go.

  “Hey, man. You made it. It’s good to see you.” A younger version of my best friend walks over to me and slaps me on the back. He’s getting old, shit, I’m getting old.

  “Dude, it’s good to see you. How you been?” Shaking his hand as I look around; he’s made enough noise to introduce the Queen of England. No one looks, but I already feel outta place.

  “He didn’t say it was a cookout. I look ridiculous.” Stretching my collar as I say it. I take the time to roll my sleeves up, so not to look too much like an oddball. “Where’s your brother?”

  “Inside working on the burgers. He’s in a fucking mood lately. Maybe he just needs to get laid.” We both chuckle. There’s one thing for certain, he needs no help in getting laid.

  “I’ll give him your suggestion.” Before he can say a word, Elise finds us.

  “Hardy, welcome. It’s so good to see you. You look so nice,” she compliments me as she pulls me into a hug.

  “He didn’t tell me it was a cookout.” I’m rolling my eyes as I whisper it to her.

  “It’s fine, you know that. Please, come in and grab yourself a drink. I’m looking for the guest of honor.” She’s searching from side to side as she says it. I join her in looking for the special guest, hoping to get a vantage point.

  “I’ll go help myself to a drink. Thank you again for inviting me.” With a nod, I walk toward the bar.

  Scanning the party, I still don’t see anyone I know. Only about twenty or so in attendance, so I’m gonna stand out. Great. This is going to end horribly; I just know it. I decide to order a little something to calm my nerves. Looking at the bartender, I ask for a shot.

  “Jose, straight up. And can I get a bottle of water? Thanks.” Tossing the tequila back, I talk myself off the ledge again.

  I face the crowd to see my best friend, finally. He’s standing facing me but talking with a woman. Red shorts and cherry-print shirt. Her hair piled high with a body that makes men like me foolhardy. My knees go weak, but before I can run, he spots me.

  Calling to me over the crowd, he seems happy to see me. I can’t help but wonder for how long? “Hey, what’s up, man? Good to see you.”

  I’m not sure how I get over to them, but I reach my hand out about the same time she turns around, stunned. “Good to be here. I’ve spoken to your mom and Chord already. I was wondering where you were. Invite a guy to a cookout but forget one important thing. Like what to wear.”

  Standing there, trying not to be obvious and stare. I have word vomit. I can’t stop talking. Shifting my eyes between the two of them. I’m still shaking his hand.

  “Sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking, besides you usually wear jeans and a band shirt.” Looking me up and down like I’m a unicorn.

  “I own nice shit; I just would’ve preferred to look like everyone else.” I’m getting angry, and it’s not because of my clothes.

  She stands there next to me, silent as a church mouse. Mouth hanging slightly ajar, eyes narrowed. I was expecting wide-eyed shock, not narrowed eyes. This is going to end badly; I just know it.

  As if remembering his manners, my best friend finally introduces me. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. Hardy, this is my little sister, Thayer. Thayer, my best friend, Hardy.”

  Thayer’s not responding, she’s pissed as hell. Stunningly beautiful. The tension is so high, One gets fidgety. Pursing her lips in discontent, all hell is about to break loose. So I break the silence. The rage in her eyes as she stands there seething is unfathomable.

  “It’s good to meet you. I can’t believe we never met growing up.” Shoving my hand out in front of me like an idiot. She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. I have, I’m crazy as fuck for being here.

  “I don’t remember you. How are you two friends? Since when?” Thayer fir
es question after question, sounding baffled with a red face. She’s so damn mad, this isn’t good.

  “Thayer, chill. Hardy and I went to middle school together. After his grandmother passed, he moved away. But we stayed in touch through the better part of high school. He’s a little younger than me but still four years or so older than you,” One explains.

  “Yeah, I moved around a lot. One has always been a true friend. My only friend. No matter where I was or what was happening, he was there when I needed him. Can you understand now?” One cocks his head to the side like he’s trying to figure out my statement, but he’s not the one I want to understand. Thayer stands there, just glaring at me.

  “Hardy’s a great guy, Thayer. He’s my head foreman, you’ll be working together when we’re on the same site.” Thayer’s eyes cut to her brother and then back to me. Suddenly, she juts her hand out to take mine that has hung there this whole time.

  “Nice to meet you. Thank you for coming.” Whirling around, she practically runs away. This is so fucking messed up. I’ve been a damn fool.

  “Sorry, man. Thayer’s been weird all day. She was out all night drinking. It pisses me off because she doesn’t do that shit. Christy couldn’t even tell me if she made it home safe. So I went by her new place early this morning, but she wasn’t home. So my question to her—where the hell she’d been?” One is angry as all fuck.

  Can’t say I blame him, Thayer was entirely too reckless last night. If he even knew how bad it was, all hell would break loose right now. So I’ll not be the one to tell him.

  “So where were you last night?” I ask as we walk toward the grill. He looks away as he answers me.

  “Running. You?” Two words, one question, which I prefer not to answer.

  “Home.” Lifting my water to my lips, I take a drink but hold it there so I can look at his sister without him knowing.

  “Thayer, come help Hardy while I get the other food,” One directs as he takes off toward the house.

  Thayer looks as though she could kill me with her glare alone as she walks over. Never saying a word, she just stands there watching the grill. I scan our surroundings to make sure no one is within earshot. Never looking at her, I speak quietly.

  “Thayer, listen. I know you’re angry. I guess I should have told you, but by the time I put two and two together, it was too late. Please tell me you understand?” Pleading with her to think about this situation was not the way to go at the moment.

  She rounds on me with her claws out; my heart breaks because her words don’t match the tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t you dare fucking talk to me. Don’t you ever assume what’s best for me. You don’t know me and you never will. Stay the fuck away from me, do you understand?”

  Fuck my resolve, I just want to hold her. Tell her anything she needs or wants to hear. I need to make the tears she’s about to shed dissipate. Tell her I want to be with her. But before I can, she delivers the gut check.

  “Besides, what would my family think of us? No wonder you didn’t want to be with me, I’m not slutty enough.” Who the fuck does she think she is?

  “I don’t know about that; you were more than willing to be fucked on the hood of your car last night in the parking lot of that club. I think you might be more my type than we first thought. Which bothers you more? That I didn’t fuck you or that I wouldn’t fuck you, Thayer? I’m thinking you just need fucked one good time so you can see how the other half lives. Is that the reason you came slumming? Preppy, rich assholes can’t give you what you need?”

  Bile rises in my throat as I spew those last words, watching a tear roll down her cheek. I hate myself right now. She hates me too. It’s for the best, I’ll never think otherwise. It’s in her best interest. Whatever it takes to warn her off.

  Stepping closer to me, her words are a whisper but very clear. “Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me.” Moving away from me, she hits her stride once her feet are on the sand.

  Don’t know how that situation could have turned out any better. Just like I thought, I’m fucked. I need to leave, if I can figure out how to tell One. Damn, what a fucking mess.

  Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry. He doesn’t deserve to see you cry. By the time sand is under my feet, I’ve pulled myself together. At least on the outside, no one can see my heart is breaking.

  I come to a stop at the shoreline, the water laps at my feet. Looking out over the ocean, I watch it roll and dive, pulling wave after wave under. Burying the dying wave before the next is born. Smothering the bolstering tide as it makes its way to the shore.

  Taking a deep breath, I pause long enough to grasp just how puzzled I am. What the hell just happened? Hardy pushed me away for this, for a friendship that I had no clue about. He didn’t even know me then, and I didn’t even know he existed.

  Wishing the waves would crash in and swallow me up, I stand there in shock. How long had he known? Did he know the weekend in Clemson? Oh my God. The things I texted him.

  None of it matters now, not after everything I just said to him. Not excluding the way he spoke to me like I was nothing. Nothing to him. Every word we shared over our weekend together meant nothing.

  I stood there looking like a complete idiot. I felt like a fool as he implied I threw myself at him. The look in his eyes told an entirely different story. The way his face contorted as he delivered each word.

  His mouth pulled into a straight line, the ‘V’ formed between his eyes as his words hit me. Hating them as they fell from his lips for hurting me the way they did. Utterly disgusted as he ripped us apart.

  I would never have been this angry had he just taken the time to tell me the truth. If he would have given us a chance, we wouldn’t be here. Hardy made the decision to not take our relationship any further without my input.

  Well, he has it now. I need to get back to my party. People are probably wondering why I’m down here. I should tell them so I can watch Hardy squirm. Maybe ignoring him will do the trick.

  Turning to go back, the first person my eyes land on is One. He knows something’s up. Shifting from his face, I find Hardy glaring at me. Oh, what. You’re mad? Too bad, asshole. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. I don’t need you to save me, I’ll save my damn self.

  Opening the gate, Christy meets me and we walk side by side. She can tell I’m upset, but instead of acknowledging it she switches gears. Like only a best friend can, she has my back until I can fill her in.

  “Alright, we’ll work on this later. Go fix the corner of your left eye, eyeliner is smudged. Sneeze a few times and go straight to the hall bathroom. Then, we’ll kick someone’s ass.”

  She’s deranged. She says the whole thing through a smile on her face so sweet, sounding like a five-year-old. I fucking love her. Especially when she shelters me from prying eyes, like One and Hardy.

  With Christy’s help, I’m up the steps and in the door in a matter of seconds. I straighten my face as best I can and ready myself for the rest of the evening. Exiting the house, my mother calls me over to speak with a few guests.

  After pressing some flesh, I work my way around thanking everyone who came. Most are my parents’ friends or business associates. Chord sits alone at a table. I grab a plate and start in his direction when Christy cuts me off.

  Bumping into my side, she walks with me to Chord’s table. “What’s up? Who are we killing?”

  Chuckling my answer, I give her the basics. “One’s best friend is an asshole. He’s also the man I spent last night with and the one I keep chasing down. Yes, Hardy is all three of those things.”

  Her eyes grow wide as I continue to talk right to where Chord sits. “We just shared our dislike for the situation including his blatant refusal of me. He said I threw myself at him. After, I called him names. It was ugly. My heart’s broken, and we’re done.”

  Painting a smile on for Chord, I sit next to him, and Christy falls into the other chair. Chord’s eyes shift between us, slowly registering the shock on Christy�
�s face and the look of death on mine.

  “Ladies, who are we killing?” We burst into laughter in unison which draws the unwanted attention from my older brother and his best friend.

  One stands, grabbing his beer and heads our way. Continuing to giggle as he gets closer, I immediately shut down when I notice he’s bringing company. Son of a bitch. Nothing gets past Chord, though, he’s so much like One.

  “What? Is it Hardy? What the fuck? Did you mess around with Hardy?” Chord looks sick. It’s probably from the blood running down his leg where my nails are cutting into his thigh.

  “Shut up. Not a word,” is all I manage to get out before they’re standing in front of us. The scrutiny One gives us is more than apparent, but Chord plays it off.

  “Hey, guys. What’s up, One? You’ve been weird all evening.” Redirection. I love that tactic. Hardy’s stare is tough to shake, but I do my very best to avoid it.

  “Nothing. I’m good. Y’all too cool to hang out with the old people? Too bad, we’re joining anyway. Grab a chair, dude.” One motions to the seat behind Hardy.

  Sitting down across from me, One gives Hardy no choice but to sit beside me. Fuck my life. He smells like sex. And sin. I lick my lips mindlessly before sinking my teeth in my bottom lip. Hardy releases a long breath.

  Butterflies erupt in my belly when his warm breath passes over me. Shifting in his seat, his leg rubs against mine, making me squeeze my thighs together from the contact. When he notices, he leaves his leg so it continues to touch mine.

  Chills race up my back, and my nipples pebble as the heat between us rises. I glance at Hardy when he takes a ragged breath. I can feel my face burn from the sexual tension between us. So my brother points it out.

  “You okay, Thayer? You look flushed!” One exclaims.

  “I’m fine.” My voice cracks making the words come out high-pitched, which makes Christy spit her drink across the table at Chord. She begins to cough, playing it off like she’s choking.