Boys of Summer: Men of Fall (Reverse Harem Second Chance Bully Romance) Page 3

  Surprise shines in those cobalt blues of his. “Okaaay, not what I expected, but I'll take it.” He smiles. “You do your thing, Nora, but if you need help finding the right one when the time comes, I have a guy in town who has some amazing classic vehicles if you’d like to check them out,” he offers.

  I smile widely, relaxing once again. “Actually yeah, thanks. I’ll probably take you up on that.” I snag the keys off the keyring next to the door. “I’ll be back later, okay? Don’t wait up.”

  “Be careful, baby!” mom calls out after me but I’m already out the door and staring excitedly at her black Jeep in the center of the massive three car garage.

  ~

  I cruise through town in mom’s awesome Jeep. The top is off, and the salty breeze blows my blonde hair around my head. I mentally chastise myself for not throwing it into a ponytail, but whatever.

  The town is small, quaint and old, but it’s filled with charm and culture. Aside from the beach houses, the whole thing consists of just one simple street that spans the length of about a mile and a half long. Right now, the summer tourists mill around in groups, traveling between shops and taking photos in front of some of the quirkier buildings. This place is full of small art galleries, consignment shops and little cafes. With the summer coming to an end the shops will gradually start to empty and the locals will resume life as usual. I’ve only witnessed the emptiness once as a child because normally we’d be long gone before the end of summer.

  I park close to a cafe with a rooftop deck. Taking the time to smooth out my windblown hair, I slip on my sunglasses and lock the jeep—though I can’t imagine anyone here trying to mess with it. This town is too small and close knit for that, unlike New York where you couldn’t even trust your own neighbor. As I walk down the street leisurely, my mind is flooded with memories. I’ve walked this street countless times and could easily find my way with a blindfold on. Ducking into the coffee cafe, I take my place in a short line, breathing in deeply as the strong vanilla scent of specialty coffee fills my nostrils. Comfort spreads through my body and puts me at ease for the first time in a while.

  “Next—” comes a sharp voice from the register and it’s only then that I realize I completely spaced out for a minute and it’s my turn to order. A girl stands behind the register, her black hair is tied behind her head in a glossy ponytail and her thick bangs are cut bluntly across her pale forehead. She’s the exact opposite of me in every way with sparkling green eyes, an un-freckled face and meticulously painted red lips.

  “Hey, I know you!” the girl says with a bright smile, showcasing perfect white teeth made even brighter by the red of her lipstick.

  I quirk an eyebrow. “Do you?” The familiarity of her sharp eyes nag at me.

  She nods. “You used to come in here every morning, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while.” The girl pulls a cup from the stack and writes on it with a sharpie. I notice she’s written the exact drink I was about to order. She sees my surprised look and laughs. “You probably wouldn’t remember me, but my mom owns this shop and I remember you would order the same drink every time for like, years.”

  ‘Wow, small town.’ A spark of memory hits. “Oh yeah, I think I do remember you—you used to sit at the booth over there and draw, right?”

  Her smile grows and her cheeks turn pink. “Sure did, the name’s Kennedy.”

  “Nora.” I smile warmly. “You look so much different than I remember,” I tell her, cocking my head to the side with a twist of my lips—studying her new look. I remember back in the day coming into the shop every morning and bypassing a skinny young girl lounging in the corner booth. Back then her hair had been coffee brown with wild, frizzy curls that circled her head like a fuzzy halo.

  Her bright eyes widen comically. “Oh god! Don’t even remind me, I went through a few phases since the—dark days,” she dramatically shudders as she turns to make my latte. “That hairdo will haunt my dreams for years.”

  That makes me snort. “I feel you. I remember one year when I was seven, my mom decided I needed a haircut and chopped it off to my chin. I don’t think I left my house for weeks.”

  Kennedy just laughs as she ads foam and a drizzle of caramel to my drink. “So, what brings you back here, summer vacay? It’s a little late in the season for that isn’t it?”

  Sighing, I answer honestly. “Actually no, my mom and I finally moved here permanently. She’s getting married in a little over a month.”

  Kennedy claps her hands excitedly. “Hell yeah, that's awesome! We should hang out!” She pauses. “You know... outside the coffee shop,” she suggests. “I mean, if you want to…”

  Warmth blooms in my chest. I was worried when my mom told me we were moving to a new town, regardless of the fact that I’d practically grown up here. The only friends I’d ever really had in California were River, Luca and Jax. I spent so much of my free time with them that I never paid attention to anyone else. We’d been trapped in our own little bubble for so long and it feels pretty good to make a new friend.

  “I’d love that, actually. I don’t know if I’ll be exciting company, but I’d love to hang out.”

  She claps excitedly. “Wanna meet me back here around six? I can close up and we can head down to the Corner Street Cafe and get some burgers if you want,” Kennedy suggests.

  “Sounds good, here—” I pull out my phone and slide it across the countertop along with my debit card. “Put your number in there and I’ll text you when I’m on my way later.”

  She runs my card and then adds her number, but not before snapping a selfie and saving it to my phone under her contact. I just laugh at the quirky girl, knowing we’re probably going to get along swimmingly. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” I wave goodbye as I leave the shop.

  My mood lifts significantly after meeting Kennedy. I don’t feel as alone suddenly. I walk further down the street, passing gift shops filled with beach themed merch and little knick-knacks. It all feels so laid back and casual here, so different than the hustle of NYC. Reaching the end of the first block, I have to squint my eyes against the sun when I notice a building in the distance that I don’t recognize. It stands out like a sore thumb against the familiar town filled with older style wooden buildings and surf shacks. This one is made of stucco and painted the brightest turquoise blue I’ve ever seen. It has glass doors in the front and a small parking lot around the side and just off the street next to the town’s small library.

  I circle around the front of the building and my heart leaps for joy as I read the name ‘Landy’s Dance’ on a grand opening sign. I waste no time and head inside the building, tossing my empty coffee cup in the trash as I do. Inside is a spacious lobby, once again painted in the same bright blue as the outside and pictures of beaches and surfers hang on the walls, intermixed with anatomy sketches of the human body in various dance style poses. I can hear music drifting through the building—echoing off the polished cement flooring. There doesn’t seem to be anyone manning the front desk, so I decide to let the music guide me. The smell of wood polish brings me comfort the further in I walk.

  Back in New York, I'd spent most of my free time in the dance studio at the high school. Even on our off days, I’d sneak in to one of the studios and practice for hours instead of going home to rest. You’d think all that dancing would have taken a toll on my body, but it’s actually the exact opposite. Dancing invigorates me—it allows me to escape the world and focus all of my energy on the one thing I know how to do better than anything else.

  I’ve always suffered from anxiety, it was a constant problem growing up and I found that whenever I danced, that anxious tightness in my chest would disappear only to be replaced by contentment and euphoria. I remember the first time I’d realized I could dance. My mom had signed me up for classes when I was six just to get me out of the house while my dad had his friends over. She couldn't afford it, and I had no idea at the time, but she’d come up with some sort of payment arrangement with the owner of the studio in order to let me take classes. Those classes saved my life. I can’t even count the hours I spent in that place, dancing my ass off and molding my body into a lithe, powerful machine that could soar into the air, flip with ease and twirl like I was walking on air.

  Dancing came naturally to me and soon my instructor caught on. After years of lessons, I’d become a junior instructor at the age of fourteen. My mom no longer had to pay for my lessons as long as I always showed up to help teach the classes. The day we moved to New York was the day I was forced to say goodbye to the studio that started it all—the studio that introduced me to the path I want to take in life. Someday, I’ll own my own studio, I hope.

  I reach a hallway lined with wooden benches. The benches face a wall of glass windows facing a series of dance rooms. I can hear a stream of vaguely hip-hop music coming from the closest room so I make my way over and sit down on the empty bench. Through the window I see a brand new polished wood floor surrounded by mirrored walls with a sound system in the corner of the room. There are about five young teen girls standing in a straight line facing an older woman in what looks like her mid to late sixties. She has bright crimson hair piled on top of her head in wild curls. She wears black leggings and a black tank top covered with a rainbow shawl that flows around her as she shows the girls a few moves for them to copy. I watch their routine for about twenty-five minutes until the teacher calls it a day and sends the girls off to pack up their things.

  Parents have started to arrive, slowly filling up the hallway before the girls exit the room and leave with their respective parents. Once the studio is empty, I decide to introduce myself to the instructor. Walking into the room, the music has been turned down and the red haired woman is drinking heavily from a bottle of cold water. I make sure to make some noise as I enter—not wanting to catch her off guard.

  “Hello dear, can I help you with something?” She smiles at me as she fumbles with her bottle cap before gliding over with a bright smile.

  “I don’t remember this place being here, is it new?” I ask dumbly—vividly remembering the grand opening sign on the front of the building.

  “You betcha, just opened up last week. Are you interested in signing up for a class?” Her eyes roam my body. “You sure look like a dancer,” she comments, though not rudely.

  “Actually, I was wondering if you might be... hiring? I’ve been a dancer since I was six, but I was a junior instructor since middle school.”

  The woman stares at me, assessing. I’m normally not this straightforward, but something about this studio really calls to me. “You want a job? How many years of college have you completed?” she asks and my heart sinks.

  “No college credits, I only just graduated high school this past year, but I promise you miss…”

  “Landy, you can call me Landy.”

  “Landy, I promise you I know how to teach dance. Before I left New York, I was supposed to be in a big showcase, but plans changed last minute and I had to move here.”

  She squints at me. “What’s your name, dear?”

  “Nora Blair, ma’am. My mom and I just moved into town this week.”

  Landy smiles and her whole face brightens. “Well, we just opened up this month and I sure could use some helping hands around here.”

  My spirits perk up.

  “Tell ya what, sweetling. You come in on Saturday and show me what you got, and I’ll consider it.”

  Excitement rushes through me and I have to refrain from bouncing on the balls of my feet. “Really? Even though I have no college credits?”

  She waves a hand in the air. “School shmool. If you got the chops, then you got the job.”

  Without another thought, I fling my arms around the woman, but to my surprise, she just chuckles and squeezes me back.

  “I’ll be here!” I promise her. “You won't regret this!”

  Landy winks at me before turning back around as a new group of girls bustle into the room. I leave the studio with a smile on my face and a new hope blooming in my heart.

  Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

  Chapter Four

  I spot Kennedy the second I enter the Corner Street Cafe. She kindly ordered ahead for the both of us and is sitting at a counter height table near the windows.

  She hasn’t seen me yet, but I make my way to her when out of nowhere, I trip over a chair that some little kid just thrust behind him and feel myself falling forward. A strong pair of arms catch my fall before steadying me on my feet. I blow out a relieved breath and look up, only to suck that breath right back in and choke on it. River Anderson glares down at me with a clenched jaw and dark green eyes filled with utter loathing. My body feels like it’s going into shock at being so close to him after all this time. I don’t know whether or not Luca said anything to him yet, but from the pure hatred pouring from his stare, I’d say yes.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he spits. He has yet to back out of my space and I realize I’ve been staring at him for too long to be considered socially acceptable. “What the hell are you doing here, Nora? I thought you fucked off to New York or something.” He looks good, and taller than I remember. His sand colored hair touches his shoulders and his jaw is sharper that it was two years ago.

  My throat tightens and I feel like throwing up. I search for answers I should have given him a long time ago. “I did, but I—”

  “Rhetorical question, I don’t actually give a shit where you’ve been—only that you go back there as fast as possible.” His sage eyes are mean and cold as they slowly roam my body from head to toe. He smothers me with his presence. My heart already hurts.

  “Riv—”

  “Who’s this, babe?” asks a tall girl with a short brunette pixie cut as she appears and drags her hand over his broad shoulder. She comes to a stop beside him, making sure their bodies remain as close as possible without actually fucking on the floor of this restaurant. The image makes me want to run away, all the way back to NYC.

  River turns to the girl and plants a small, disgusting kiss on her thin lips before turning back to me. “Just some tourist who didn’t watch where she was going.” His sneer cuts right through me. “Maybe watch yourself next time.”

  The girl just stares, narrowing those brown eyes of hers in a way that tells me she knows a little more than she’s letting on. Unfortunately for me and my sanity, the chick isn’t bad to look at. Her skin is pale and luminous, and her short dark hair compliments her slender neck and lithe frame. She’s so much taller than I am that it makes me feel like a child as I tilt my head up at both of them. My size always made me feel dainty around my boys, but now it’s come back to haunt me in the worst way.

  “Why are we still standing here?” she asks with a small smirk to which I have to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out.

  I snap my gaze back to River only to find he’s still watching me—too closely for this to be anything casual. “Riv, don’t do it like this. I know I fucked up, but can we just go somewhere and talk?” I plead with him, hoping that a little bit of my River is still left inside this new man in front of me.

  For just the smallest of moments, something in his green eyes flickers, but that thick shield falls back into place the second his bitch squeezes his shoulder and clears her throat. Her eyes cut into mine and she looks so fucking smug. I have no ground to stand on here. Honestly, I know I don’t deserve him to hear me out. I don’t deserve anything from him, no matter how tight my heart squeezes in my chest. No matter how hard I have to restrain myself from flinging myself into those toned arms that used to be so familiar and comforting to me.

  “Hey bitch,” a voice cuts through the tension in the room. A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn to find Kennedy standing there, but her glare is locked on River’s girlfriend. “You bothering my friend?” Her protectiveness warms me just a little. I barely know the girl, but I think I’m right in assuming she’s one of those ride or die type friends.

  Thin Lips scoffs. “I don’t even know who this loser is. C’mon River, I’m already bored.”

  He hesitates for a moment before the chiming of the bell at the door catches his attention and mine too. Sunlight glares through the glass window as the setting sun begins to disappear over the rolling hillside, but all I can see are a pair of dark brown eyes that latch onto me and only me when he steps into the room.

  You know those cringey moments in teen movies where all sound stops, time slows down and the wind blows through your crush’s hair as they enter the room? Well, none of that bullshit happens here. Luca Perry takes one look at me and turns on his heel, slamming the door behind him before disappearing down the street.

  River turns to smirk at me. “Looks like Luc has the right idea, this place stinks like trash,” he sneers before winding a muscular arm around Thin Lips’ waist. He drags her away from me and out the door as I stand there with my mouth slightly parted. This day went from bad, to pretty good, to awesome, and circled right back around to disaster.

  Kennedy shakes my shoulder, snapping me out of my daze. “Let’s get some food in you while you fill me in on what the hell that was.” She steers me over to the table she’d been sitting at and I take a seat across from her. She pushes a drink in front of me. “Alright, spill. How do you know River and Casey?”

  Groaning, I rub the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, trying my best to keep the tears at bay. I’m not usually a crier. In fact, I think I’m so used to the feeling of sadness that crying isn’t even an outlet for my grief anymore. I happen to be one of those angry criers. I cry out of frustration and it pisses me off every time. Kennedy’s face wears a look of pity and I hate it.

  “Riv and I go way back.” I sigh deeply and sit back in my chair. “Like... years back. We were best friends once, but I fucked it all up and now he hates me.”