Boys of Summer: Men of Fall (Reverse Harem Second Chance Bully Romance) Read online

  There's a hollowness in my stomach as the memories hit me. In my mind I can picture him so clearly—that long blonde head of surfer hair that made me want to run my hands through it so many times, even though I’d been too chicken to actually go for it. His jade green eyes that were always a little too intense... a little too knowing for comfort stand out in my mind's eye making my stomach ache with the loss of them. I remember the way his lithe body had changed over the years—growing into his immense height and the way he towered over me when we realized I’d stopped getting any taller…

  I startle when I feel wetness on my cheek and it’s only then that I realize I’m crying. I quickly wipe away the traitorous tears, wishing not for the first time that I had Cat here to comfort me. Mom insisted on bringing my baby girl with her a week ahead of time so I wouldn't have to go through the trouble of working it out myself. The only thing that helps to cheer me up is the realization that she’ll be waiting for me at home…

  ‘Home. Do I even have one?’ I don’t know if I ever did. I mean, we’ve always lived with the Pembrokes... well, not always. I try and block out the years before my mom landed the job that changed our lives as much as possible. We’d been living in the pool house of one of my dad’s old drug dealers after he died. I don’t remember much of that part of my life, but I do remember the hopelessness in my mom’s eyes every time she came home from her job at the diner, scrambling to find food in the house for me to eat while she went hungry.

  I never blamed mom for the hard years... I knew she’d been firmly planted under my father’s thumb since way before I’d even been born. They’d been high school sweethearts at one point, and when dad turned to drugs, alcohol and gambling, the love he had for mom withered away and morphed into resentment. Sometimes I feel like a bad person for being glad he’s gone. I barely remember the man, but what I do remember I’d give anything to forget.

  ~

  After leaving Mainstreet, we take a small road that winds its way through dense trees along the edge of the coastline. From here, the water looks so close I could almost reach out and touch it. The homes are grouped together tightly, but not in a bad way. Each place is colorful, artsy and beachy enough to command its own identity as they stack up onto the lush green hill overlooking the water.

  On the other side of the small road that separates the beach from the homes is a small foot and bike path that I know spans the entire length of the beach. It feels strange as we bypass the beautiful house the Pembrokes used to rent out for the summers. The dark green home with tall windows glints in the setting sun as we drive by. The lights are all on and I can tell another family has moved in. My stomach tightens at the thought. That place holds so many of the best memories of my life within its walls.

  It only takes another minute for us to turn off onto a steep driveway leading to a four car garage at the base of a gigantic sky blue beach home that looks like it’s made of more glass than actual structure. The roof is square with an upper deck that peeks out from the very top. It’s slightly slanted with metal brackets and hooks that make up a hanging rack for wetsuits. Next to the double front door is a rack of about five surfboards of various colors.

  A giddy feeling rolls over me as I run my eyes over each board on the rack. I’ve always been good at surfing, but just for recreational reasons. I love it out there, coasting over the waves on my stomach even when the water is too flat to really do anything with it. River had been a pro since the day he learned how to walk, or so claimed Luca. My blonde beach bum would probably go on someday to become a pro surfer, traveling the world and gracing the cover of magazines.

  Over the years he’d tried to convince Luca to love surfing just as much, but Luc always preferred the arts like I do, only his talent has always been playing guitar and producing music rather than dance. For being best friends, the two couldn't possibly have been more different, in both looks and personality. Don’t get me wrong, Luca still surfed with the best of them, but River Anderson was the real shining star of the ocean.

  Once again, a heavy cloying sadness pulls at my heartstrings as I realize I’ve been sitting here in the back seat of the stopped town car for way too long. A part of me dreads stepping out of this vehicle because I know the second I do, this all becomes real. My life in New York is really over and all I can think about is the fact that I wish Jax was here to make it all easier. I find myself missing the smell of his aftershave already... the hum of his deep baritone and the sly, knowing smiles that made my insides feel like jelly...

  The driver already brought my bags up and into the house—I’m pretty sure he got the hint that I needed a moment because he hadn’t said a word. Slowly, I walk up the steep driveway and make my way to the front door. I have no idea what the protocol is here. ‘Do I just walk in?’ I mean... I’m supposed to live here now, but it feels so awkward.

  Ringing the doorbell, I wait nervously for what feels like hours, but time tends to move slower when your heart is racing and you're ready to bolt. The door swings open, revealing none other than Elena Blair in the flesh—with her long, white blonde hair that looks just like mine, but where my eyes are a very light golden color, hers are seawater blue and sparkle in the sunshine. I can’t stop myself as I fling into her arms, crushing her in a hug that should embarrass me. Even though I’m still pissed off at her, I feel nothing but relief.

  “Oh baby, I missed you so much,” she mumbles into my hair as she hugs me tight. She smells like salt, sunscreen and her Prada perfume she always wears. Pulling back, mom takes my shoulders in her hands and looks me over as if I might be hurt somehow. Her eyes flit over my lightly freckled face and she smiles softly. “Don’t hate me?” she asks with a cheeky smile and a mock cringe and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Only a little,” I grumble, but my smile is too wide for her to take me seriously. She shuts the door behind me before linking her arm with mine. Her heels click on the hardwood flooring while the heavy thuds of my strappy sandals make me feel frumpy and poor.

  The clicking of nails on the floor perks me up and suddenly, a black ball of fur and slobbery kisses practically tackles me right there in the foyer. Cat jumps and yips as I scratch behind her ears and place small kisses along her adorable face. Mom just watches us patiently. I missed my girl so much even though it’s only been a few days. She settles down after a moment and follows my mom into the next room.

  “I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone, Carson took the whole day off work just to meet you,” she blathers on while I’m too busy taking stock of my new home.

  The house is admittedly gorgeous. I was afraid when I first found out that my mom was marrying a wealthy man from California, that we’d move into some sterile mansion filled with furniture I’d be forbidden to touch—you know the kind, where there exists off limits rooms and couches covered in plastic wrap. Instead, I’m greeted with an open plan space filled with green house plants and floor to ceiling windows. The hardwood floor beneath my feet is a pleasant, neutral grey color that complements the blue grey walls. A staircase winds up the side wall to the left of the entryway and its railings are made of pristine glass panels and more of the same grey wood planks. Framed photos cover the walls, intermixed with eclectic looking canvases showcasing all sorts of abstract and modern art that melds well with the cool, beachy vibe of the home. All in all, I can tell whoever this man is, he at least has good taste.

  We enter through one of two entrances that lead into a large kitchen. The space is just as clean and open as what I’ve seen so far and oddly enough, the countertops seem to be made of some sort of petrified wood. It’s artsy and just a little bit hippy which suits my mom perfectly. A man waits next to a bar area with his back to us. He’s extremely tall and from what I can tell, his hair is closely cropped and dark brown with streaks of salt and pepper mixed in. He turns around and I can immediately tell what drew my mother to the man. He’s incredibly handsome and his wide, pearly white smile welcomes us along with a twinkle in his eye whe
n his baby blues land on my mom. She leaves my side, clicking over to him within moments and smacks a wet kiss right on his cheek to which he only grins before flicking his eyes back to me.

  “You must be Nora,” he expertly deduces as he strolls further into the kitchen with an outstretched hand. “You mother’s been bouncing off the walls waiting for you to get here,” he teases and in my peripheral I see mom roll her eyes dramatically while I reach out and shake his hand firmly.

  “Sounds about right. You must be Carson. I’m sorry, but mom’s never mentioned you before,” I tell him honestly.

  “Nor—” she starts to admonish me but Carson cuts her off.

  “It's okay, she’s right.” His eyes pass over my face, but not in a bad way... more like in a thoughtful type way. “I suppose this must seem crazy to you, and so sudden. But I promise you right now, I have every intention of making your mother as happy as can be.” He smiles reassuringly, inclining his head towards me. “And that goes for you too, I want you to be happy and comfortable here. This is your home now.”

  Something about the guy puts me at ease even though everything inside of me wants to be a brat. I’m over eighteen and much too old to be acting like a spoilt child just because my mom has a new fiancé. Clearly, she’s smitten with the man and I don’t intend on doing anything to jeopardize that.

  “I’m sure I’ll be okay. I have a good feeling about you.” I wink and my mother just snorts next to us. Carson's lips threaten to twitch into a smirk. I’m trying so hard to seem like I’m okay with this.

  “Good to hear,” he chuckles before clapping his hands together. “Now, who’s ready for some bbq, yeah?” He turns back to me. “Oh, I forgot, my... nephew is out back tending to the burgers if you’d like to join him. Your mother and I can get the drinks and salad and meet you out there.”

  I nod vacantly as they turn and head further into the house to what I presume is a garage. I’m assuming they have some sort of alternate fridge out there for party drinks and such, but I can hear my mom giggling the whole way. Rolling my eyes at her teeny-bopper antics, I wipe the clammy sweat from my palms onto my jean shorts before making my way to the back yard. A large glass door slides open, letting the sea breeze waft over me, allowing me to greedily huff in smogless air that my body had been deprived of in New York.

  The backyard isn't much more than a glorified deck. Since all the other homes are basically beachfront too, there's really no need for individual yards. Instead I stand on a large fenced off deck that overlooks the rolling waves. Close to the railings stands a tall, well-built guy in a tight black t-shirt and dark grey board shorts. From the back, I can tell he stands somewhere around 6’6 or so. He leans casually to the side on one leg and flips burgers while I allow my eyes to roam the plains of his muscular, tattooed arms. He’s tanned from the sun all the way down to his flip flop clad feet.

  I clear my throat for lack of a natural way to alert him to my presence like the awkward human being that I am. The guy’s shoulders stiffen as he whips around. Our eyes clash and my stomach threatens to expel its contents right here on this shiny wooden deck. I watch as Luca flits his dark brown eyes over my face, taking in the subtle differences two years might have made. He says nothing as I clench my jaw tight and greedily memorize every single line, freckle and feature of his familiar yet changed face. His black hair is buzzed into a crew cut now, drawing attention to the high arches of his dark brows. His ears are pierced, and his arms and neck are covered in black ink tattoos that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen him... the last time I licked him.

  My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest. Mom mentioned that Carson had a nephew living with him... actually, more like a ward since technically he belongs to Carson’s best friend, but she never mentioned his name. For a moment, I can’t help but think that this is all a part of some sick, twisted joke the universe is trying to play on me.

  But he’s here. Right here in front of me. One of two souls on earth who have plagued my dreams and my nightmares for two very long years. Someone I never thought I’d have to face after leaving the way I did. A million memories run through my mind in a single moment. Flashes of those same amber eyes burning into mine as his rough fingertips ran along my chilled skin that night by the water. Sometimes I can still feel his lips, drinking me in so deeply—so urgently, as if somehow, he knew what the next day would bring.

  Guilt washes over me as he watches me with blank eyes, letting the burgers behind him char and go up in smoke. His well-defined jaw is clenched and despite the clear anger there, the intensity suits him well and makes him look even older than his twenty years.

  “Luca—” I start to whisper only to be interrupted by the sounds of mom and Carson fumbling through the door.

  “Luca, the burgers!” Carson admonishes and it’s only then that I register the amount of black smoke filtering out of the grill. Carson rushes to it and dumps the charred lumps of meat into the trash can before loading a few more patties onto hot coals.

  Mom sets the drinks down on the patio table, but her eyes are trained on us—bouncing between the two of us with a frown on her face. She never met my boys and I never told her their names. I’d kept their identities a secret from both her and the Pembrokes for close to nine years. Sure, everyone knew I snuck off by myself often enough to raise suspicions, but mostly they left me alone. I didn’t want people to judge me... to tell me our friendship was wrong. Two older boys and one girl would rub some people the wrong way and I couldn’t risk losing them. The only person that knew of my little obsession was Jax, and all he ever had to say about it was to be careful and guard my heart. Wise words that I was never smart enough to heed. Before the move to New York, I begged my mom to let me stay. I broke down and told her about the boys I was leaving behind, but she brushed it off as a silly little crush.

  “Luca, this is my daughter Nora. Nor, this is Carson's nephew, he’ll be staying with us until his studio is finished in town,” mom supplies though nobody really asked. She’s just trying to be polite.

  ‘Studio? Holy crap, he actually did it!’ I squeal internally. Luca always dreamed of opening a recording studio. His talent with a guitar is insane, but his passion has always been producing. As kids, all he’d ever talk about was opening his own studio to live and record in. A swell of warmth and happiness blooms in my stomach... until I see the blatant rage on his face transform into utter blankness that chills that warmth to my core.

  He sticks out a large, tattooed hand for me to shake and I fight my recoil. “Nice to meet you, Nora.” His voice is deep and rich—a man's voice, not the boy I once knew so well. He’s pretending he doesn’t know me.

  A part of my soul dies a little. My hand visibly shakes as I reach out and clasp his warm fingers in mine. What feels like lightning races up my arm and spreads through my body, but something tells me this feeling is only one sided. We shake politely, but he releases my fingers abruptly—like somehow I repulse him. Mom watches it unfold with a perplexed frown on her face before turning back to Carson, abandoning me altogether. My eyes are busy tracking her, so I miss the sudden movement as Luca invades my space. I hold my breath as he leans down slightly so that his lips graze my left ear.

  “I’ll say this once,” he pretty much growls. “If you come anywhere near me, I’ll make your life a living fucking hell.” His hot breath scorches my skin. “Do the smart thing and turn that pretty ass around and go back to New York where you really want to be.”

  His shoulder slams into mine as he storms past me and into the house. I’m still holding my breath and praying that mom and Carson didn’t see that. Pain clenches my stomach at his words that I know I deserve. I’ve never seen Luca so angry. I knew coming back here was a mistake, but I’ll be the first to admit that a part of me—however small, hoped they’d welcome me back with open arms and things could fall back into place.

  How naive of me. I deserve everything that’s coming my way.

  Chapter Three
br />   After settling into my new bedroom, which luckily is on the bottom floor of the massive house, I grab my satchel and click my new house key onto my keychain before making my way out into the kitchen.

  Mom and Carson are awkwardly milling around, doing whatever it is parents do when they have the day off. I can sense the weird energy in the house ever since Luca stormed off without a word to either of them. They’d questioned me about it, but I just shrugged it off, pretending I had no idea what caused the guy’s mood swing. I could tell it was bothering Carson most of all—reminding me that this isn’t the Luca Perry I know and love... knew and loved.

  “Mom, can I borrow your car?” I ask as I join her at the island in the center of the kitchen. She looks up after sipping from her mug of tea and smiles softly. “I was thinking I should go into town and check things out.” I shrug. “I really missed it here.”

  “Sure, sweetie, keys are on the hook next to the door in the garage. You can take the Jeep,” she offers and my belly tingles with excitement. I don’t drive very often—if ever. Living in New York, I’d always either hopped on the subway or dialed one of the Pembroke’s town cars to get me around. I do have my license though. I made sure of that the day I turned seventeen and felt comfortable enough behind the wheel.

  “We’ll have to see about getting you your own car soon,” Carson interjects casually, causing me to practically stumble on my way to the door.

  “Uh, what?” Surely I heard him wrong.

  He smiles and glances at my mom before taking a seat at the barstool next to her. “You’ll need a car, won't you?” he asks.

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. “You don’t need to buy me anything just because you’re marrying my mom,” I snap and immediately wince at how bitchy I just sounded.

  “Nor, don’t...” mom sighs.

  Shame fills me. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped.” I look over to Carson apologetically. “I really appreciate the offer, but I can’t let you do that. I’m almost nineteen years old, I need to figure it out myself... if that's alright.”