When Its Least Expected (35 page)

“Don’t say anything, David. I already know what you’re thinking.” He frowned at her,

rubbing a hand over his chin and mouth. Slight stubble had formed along his jaw. She
grinned.

He looked more like their dad every day.

Harley moved around him to sit at the couch. She kicked her feet up on the cushions,

easing down into the seat. She blew out a breath, her mind racing with more questions.
Her eyes demanded a nap instead.

“I knew that dude was trouble the moment I met him, Har. Didn’t you hear his sister?
He

abandons everyone he supposedly loves.” Harley nodded, agreeing with her saddened
heart but unable to verbally accept the words.

Abandonment should have been Mason Daniel’s middle name, but God, she still loved

him. She’d most likely always love him, no matter what. She couldn’t control her heart.

“Listen, David, I’m not defending him in anyway because God knows how badly he’s

hurt me, but I also know him, probably better than a lot a people do. He had his reason
for leaving.” Reasons she found by secretly reading his letter, at least once a day.

She sighed, closing her eyes. She was done looking at the all-knowing face of her
brother

for the night. “He’s not the awful person you’ve always made him out to be, so please
just leave it alone for tonight.” She hung her head low, laying her body down to get
more comfortable. She tucked her arms behind her head and crossed her ankles as she
let her mind close down.

“I still don’t like him, Har. I know I’ve said it a million times before, but I’m
glad

he left. He wasn’t good enough for you.” She swallowed her retort that her brother
was one to talk. “I’m sorry if that hurts you, but him leaving you, will always be
for the best.” She heard him wheel away, but she ignored his jab.

Unfortunately though, the tears stinging her eyes had heard him loud and clear. She

brushed them away. Determination was the only weapon of defense she had left against
them.

She blew out a heavy stream of air. Crap. She’d cried too many damn tears for Mason
Daniel, and even though her heart still bled for him while her skin ached for his
touch and his kisses, she was still bound and determined more than ever to stay as
strong as she could.

She’d surely get over the boy who’d ever made her whole someday, right?

***

“Dude, you should have gone to that party down at the pier! Plenty of ladies in bikinis

looking for a bit of Mason to mess around with, ya know?” Mason rolled his eyes. Would
his

buddy Nolan ever stop being a piss ant druggie? The dude was beyond blitzed with eyes

practically crossed, staggering from wall to wall to stay up right. Mason shook his
head at the idiot. “That’s not my thing anymore, Nolan. Besides, I wanted some chill
time because I’m

hitting the waves early in the morning with Jake.” Mason shrugged clicking off the
television, tossing the remote onto the couch.

He stood, running a hand through his now chin length hair. He had every intention
of

heading to bed even though he knew sleep wouldn’t come. The idea of closing his eyes
and

falling into that dreamless state of bliss had abandoned him months ago.

“Oh, dude, I totally forgot to tell you that your sister Daisy called earlier when
you were out getting food. She left you a message about some shit on the house phone.
Sorry, I dunno what she said because I was with that blonde from apartment 45B. That
girl has got some killer tits, and I was—”

Mason stood, “Shit, Nolan, can’t you be a little less vulgar for once? Christ…”

“Dude, I remember you being that
vulgar
once. Christ, you and your big ass words.

You’re an uptight asshole, and you seriously need to get laid,” Nolan laughed. The
sound was guttural and annoying as hell.

Mason gritted his teeth as his hands balled in fists by his sides. He was ready to
kick his ass. Nolan
did not
want to piss him off anymore.

He stomped his booted feet while ramming his shoulder into his once upon a time best

friend as he headed to the kitchen to grab his cell phone.

Five missed calls. Shit, they were all from Maisy too. Son of a bitch! That wasn’t
good.

“My sister’s name is
Maisy
by the way, you asshole, and how could you freaking just forget to tell me she called?”

“Dude, chill. Like I said, I was a little busy.” Nolan’s eyes pulled together, but
he

couldn’t pull off the pissed look. He was too far gone.

The guy was a douche, a dirt bag druggie, and now, more than ever, Mason wanted out
of

that apartment. He wanted a place of his own, a place where he could suffer in complete
silence all by himself, but he was trying to save as much money as he could in order
to get a place right down by the beach.

“Mason, is that you?” Maisy whispered on the first ring. Her voice sounded sleepy
and

hoarse like she’d been crying.

He clung tighter to the phone, and his throat tightened. Sweat laced his palms. He
looked

over at the microwave clock. Shit, it was late. Maybe he had woken her up or something.

“Yeah, mouse, I’m here. Are you okay? What’s wrong? Is it Harley?” Speaking her name

never failed to make his mouth go dry. This time was no different.

His stomach tied in knots, and his mind raced with the unknown possibilities of why

Maisy had called. If anything had happened to Harley…

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to relax. Harley was fine. She had to have

been.

“No, Mason. It’s grandpa. He’s … dead.” The air whooshed out of his lungs. His jaw

dropped. His heart emptied even more.

No, no way. He had just spoken to him yesterday! How? Why? He shook his head,

tugging at the neck of his tank top. “When, Maisy? When did this happen?” Mason swallowed

the tight lump in his throat. He wouldn’t cry.

“This morning.” His heart lurched as he stiffened. He’d spent his entire day either

sleeping on the couch or lounging on the beach. He was turning into a bum while his
grandpa had died without his knowledge. “The hospice nurse that came in to check on
him found him on the floor of his room while mom was working and I was at school.”

He paced the kitchen gritting his teeth as he listened to his little sister. She shouldn’t
be dealing with this on her own. She was only sixteen, and his mother … God, she was
most likely shutting off from the world again.

“What’s mom been doing, Maisy? Why didn’t she call me?”

“Oh hell, Mason. Mom’s zoning out, too busy wallowing in her own ridiculousness to

even talk to me most of the time. I’m … alone,” she sniffled. Holy hell.

He punched his hand into the fridge. His anger and grief mixed as pushed he bent at
the

waist with his hands pressed against his knees. Maisy went on to talk about funeral
and visitation arrangements, and somewhere along the way, Mason found himself back
in his room sitting at

his computer, credit card in hand ready to book a flight home.

Huh? When had Hillsdale become home?”

“I’m coming home, Maisy. Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon as I can.”

She was eerily quiet. The phone line buzzing in the background was all he could hear.
He

cringed, wishing he had the right words to say, but then thankfully, finally, she
spoke.

“Mason, I, uh, went to Harley’s house tonight. I’m sorry. I was desperate and alone,
and I

couldn’t get a hold of you. I needed to talk to somebody.” He narrowed his eyes as
his back went ramrod straight. Why in the hell did she think he would be pissed at
her?

“Why are you sorry, Mouse? She’s a great person; someone who I’m glad was there for

you. I’m not mad, never ever mad.” Sick to the stomach, eyes watering from the pain
of even thinking about his little beast, but never mad.

“She asked about you. It was the first time since you left that she’s done that.”
He braced his palms on the edge of his desk, pushing himself back into the chair.

He blew out a quick breath as he stared out of the small window in his apartment

bedroom. Excitement brewed instead of pain in his chest. He’d take the change in his
emotions any day, even though talking about and thinking about Harley still led him
to the same feelings in the end – heartbreak and loss

He closed his eyes again, “What did you tell her?”

She sighed, “The truth. I told her that I hadn’t talked to you much because you’re
so busy

with surfing and stuff. It was all I could think of ... honestly!”

“Dammit,” Mason cursed, pounding his fist against his keyboard. He failed his sister,
just

like he failed Abigail and his dad too, but then again, what was new?

“What, Mase? Did you want me to tell her the truth? That you’re wasting away without

her? That every moment of your day is spent thinking of her? Because I know it’s true.
I can hear it in your voice, Mason, every single time we talk.”

He blinked, how could his sister read him so well, even over the phone? He cleared
his

throat, needing to find a way to change the subject before his own emotions got the
better of him.

“Okay, Mouse, I get it. You know as much as I do that I still love her. We were just
never

meant to be. She deserves better.”

“Mason Daniel, you deserve to be happy too! When are you going to stop punishing

yourself all the time! Her accident wasn’t your fault.
Dad’s death
wasn’t you fault either.” His eyes widened. How had she known about his guilt over
his dad’s death? He never spoke about

his feelings to anybody but Har.

He cleared the emotion from his throat. He had to get off the phone otherwise he was

going to lose it. “Mouse, I’ve gotta go. I love you. I’ll see you soon,” he cut her
off, hanging up the phone before she had a chance to reply.

He pressed his hand against his forehead using his thumb and forefinger to massage
his

temples. It throbbed like the constant ache in his heart.

God, these were the times he missed Harley the most.

“Harley? Are you ready to go, honey? Abigail just pulled into the driveway!” her mom

called from outside the door.

Taking her fiftieth deep breath in the last five minutes, Harley glanced at herself
once

more in the mirror. She nodded. Her little pep talk fell unconvincingly from her lips,
“You can do this, Harley. It’s just one day, and then you’ll never have to see him
again.”

She popped her lips to seal in her lip gloss, questioning why she put it on in the
first place just as her always impatient mother bounded through the door.

“Did you hear me?”

She slapped her hands on her thighs, “Yeah, Mom. Just give me a second, okay?” Harley

snapped, grabbing a few extra tissues to stick in her wristlet. She would be eighteen
in less than a week, and she had only ever been to one other funeral before. She knew
she’d cry. That was

inevitable, so the Kleenex was a must.

“Well, you don’t want to keep her waiting, hon, and showing up to a funeral late is
not

exactly an appropriate –”

“Mom, I’m coming. Just … chillax, okay?” Harley rolled her eyes, glancing down at
her

choice of footwear.

Hmm … flip flops. Did one wear them to a funeral? She plucked some lint off her dress.

Was the dress too much? Should she have gone more casual? It was rainy and nasty outside,
so maybe she should have chosen flats and a sweater set instead. She grinded her teeth.
Her entire body was practically seething with irritation today. God, why did the little
things have to be so difficult nowadays?

It was her nerves talking, had to have been. The stupid things were eating away at
her

like tiny unwanted bugs that had buried themselves in her body. If she made it through
the day alive, it’d be a phenomenon in the making.

“I’m out!” Harley gave her mom tightlipped smile as she slipped by her through the
door.

“Don’t forget a sweater!” she shouted from behind. “And be sure to give my condolences

to Maisy and Mason, alright? I love you!”

“Love you too, Mom,” she grabbed her sweater along with her wristlet, as she raced

unenthusiastically towards Abigail’s kickass new sports car.

She smiled at the cherry red contraption, shaking her head as Abigail popped a “let’s
go

finger” from the sun roof. Dumb girl. Who had their sunroof opened on a rainy wet
day

anyways?

She slipped in, shivering as the cool leather seats rubbed against her bare legs.
“Look at

you, hot mama, all sexified for a funeral.” Not at all denying it, Harley looked over
towards her best friend, sending her an evil glare.

“I am not
sexified,
Abs, just … dressed up. What about you? Who in the hell wears a short black mini
skirt and hooker boots to a funeral? That sweater shows more cleavage then I show
in my bikini top!” Abigail grinned back at her, wiggling her eyebrows up and down
as she tapped along to the beat of the music on her steering wheel.

“Well, at least Mason can see exactly what he’s missing out on now. Hell, Har, if
I had

legs like that then I’d be wearing skirts shorter than the one I’ve got on! Besides,
you need to give that sexy surfer boy something to drool over, something to say
hey, looked at what you
screwed up
. Bada-bing, bada-boom. That’s how you should be rolling, chickadee.”

Harley grunted as they sped down the driveway, groaning even harder when they stalled

out on the main road. Then their eyes locked, and they both erupted in fits of giggles.
Apparently Abigail and clutches just didn’t mix.

Harley sighed, “Listen, Abs. When we get there, I want to sit towards the back, that
way