Building Faith (Long Beach Series Book 2) (22 page)

It's a girls’ night out Friday night. All the guys are going to some new nightclub downtown, and Zoey's decided she wants to go out with me and Bev. She's in my apartment to help me get ready, but in reality, she's spending more time playing with Daisy than helping me.

I pull out a short, white dress with a flared skirt and study it critically. Would this be okay for the club Zoey’s insisting we go to? I don't really want to wear the yellow dress I wore the first night I met Ace, and I definitely don't want to wear the shorts outfit I'd worn when he'd taken me out on the motorcycle he'd borrowed. As usual, my heart aches as I think of him. It's Friday, and still no word from him. I've been trying to stay busy, and the second Zoey announced we should go out, I'd jumped on the idea.

Tonight, I'm going to drink my sorrows away and have some fun. I need to do something to release the tension inside me. The stress of what had happened Tuesday night has just left me with an achy feeling in my gut all week.

“Absolutely not,” Zoey's voice cuts into my thoughts.

I glance at her. She's wearing tight, black pants tonight and a bold, red shirt that flashes her toned stomach and belly piercing if she lifts her arms too high. She's sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bedroom floor trying to get Daisy to chase some ribbons on the end of the stick she's holding. Her eyes are on the dress as she briefly ignores Daisy.

“What's wrong with it?” I ask.

“It's white.”

“So?”

She shakes her head and then turns her attention to Daisy. She picks the kitten up and kisses her on the nose. “Sorry, D, but play time is over,” she announces before she affectionately pats Daisy on the rump and sets her down. She gracefully stands up and looks at me. “Let's go to my place. I'm sure I've got something that'll fit you.”

“No offense, but I want to be comfortable,” I point out. “All your stuff is too short or too tight.”

“So I'll find you something that's not too short or too tight. It should be fairly easy, I'm taller than you by at least four inches.”

I'm about to turn down her offer when I think of the clothes in my closet. I don't really have anything I want to wear, and I'm supposed to be having fun tonight. “Okay,” I cave.

We lock Daisy up in the bathroom, and I make sure the lock is turned in the knob of the door handle when I shut my apartment door. I follow Zoey to her apartment next door. I have a worrisome thought and ask, “The guys aren't meeting over here, are they?”

“No, they're meeting at Jake's,” she tells me as she unlocks the door and we step inside.

I love Zoey and Caleb's apartment. The walls are painted a brown that's hard to describe. It's not a boring brown; it has a hint of gray and burgundy to it. It looks great with the white furniture. Dark blue, gold, and burgundy pillows give the room a pop of color. There's a half table against one wall, and a few dragon statues give the room character. An artistic canvas print hangs on the far wall with all the colors of the pillows in it. The way their apartment is set up is way different than how mine looks. Sooner or later, I really need to add some décor or something, especially since I have no intention of moving back to Harrison.

We enter the bedroom, and I try not to pay attention to the large bed that dominates one wall, or the fact that they've got a set of large mirrors on the other. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out they like to watch what they're doing in bed.

Zoey opens up a closet that is jam packed with clothes. She starts digging.

“You have like five wardrobes in there,” I muse.

She glances over her shoulder at me. “I've made up for lost time this past year.” She shrugs and turns away. “I didn't enjoy much of anything until I met Caleb. He's renewed my passion to live life, and I'm definitely enjoying it.” She pulls out something that's slinky and silver dangling from a hanger. “Here, this would look hot on you. Especially since it's backless, you can show off your tattoos.”

I accept the scrap of silver and eye it critically. “This is a shirt?”

“Yeah. Take your tank and bra off,” she says, stepping towards me.

“My bra too?” I ask, frowning.

“Just trust me.”

I slip off my shirt and hesitate with my bra. I've never undressed in front of her before.

Zoey reads my expression and rolls her eyes. “I have a pair of my own, you know. It's not like you've got something that I haven't ever seen.”

Well, now I'm feeling a bit prudish. I reluctantly slip off my bra, and Zoey barely even glances at my breasts. She helps me figure out how to put the shirt on, and then she secures it behind my neck.

“Go look in the mirror,” she tells me.

I walk over to the large mirrors and see that the silver material hangs down my front in a satiny, cowl neck, effectively hiding my now braless breasts. I turn and peer over my shoulder. The halter top is backless, and my tattoos are bared to anyone that'll be walking behind me tonight.

“We should put your hair up, too. Do you mind?” Zoey asks.

I have to admit I like the shirt. “Sure.”

“I have a pair of black dress shorts that should fit you nicely since they're pretty snug on me. Let's get you changed; then I'll do your hair.” Zoey turns away and goes back to her closet. “By the way, I totally dig that new tattoo on your wrist. Logan did a good job,” she says over her shoulder.

“Thanks, I think so, too.”

We spend about thirty minutes fussing with my hair and makeup. My freckles get covered, and I know Ace would hate it. He's not with me tonight, so in the end, it doesn't really matter.

By the time we get to the club, Bev is already there and waiting. I try hard not to feel a bit of jealousy and resentment towards the other woman since she's been with Ace. It bothers me, but I have to remind myself that they hooked up before I ever met Ace. I have no right to feel jealous.

Bev buys us shots, and I don't bother holding back. After three shots of the nastiest stuff I've ever swallowed, I'm feeling pretty good and agreeing to go dance. Dancing is pretty easy when you're buzzin' hard. I get my groove on and even dance with a few guys. I don't let them get too grabby with me, and when they try to, I put an end to dancing with them.

When midnight rolls around, I realize I can't even walk straight, and I am giggling as if everything in the world is suddenly hilarious. Zoey and I are sitting at the table while Bev orders some mixed drinks at the bar.

Zoey peers at me. “Aw, I got you trashed,” she realizes as she looks crestfallen. “I forget you're not used to drinking.”

“I have to pee,” I announce to no one particular. My bladder is about to explode.

Her eyebrows lift. “Yes, let's hit the restrooms.  I think when you're done, we'll flag a cab and get you home. No more alcohol for you tonight, or you'll never go out with me again. I don't want you puking your guts out all day tomorrow,” she says as she rises to her feet and helps me stand up.

I trip over my own foot, and Zoey keeps me from falling. A groan escapes me as the world spins slightly. “Just let me pee and dump me in a cab. Don't waste part of your night riding back with me when you can stay here,” I mumble to her.

“I don't think you'll make it to your door on your own,” Zoey laughs.

This earns her an indignant look from me. “All I have to do is use the elevator, press two, walk down the hall to my door—which is still number 17C, unless they changed it while I was gone. How hard can that be?”

Thirty minutes later, I am kicking myself for insisting on being independent in my drunken state. I try the knob on my door for the millionth time and groan. It's locked, and I don't recall grabbing my key off my dresser. Unfortunately, my spare is in Zoey and Caleb's apartment. I talked Zoey into continuing her night with Bev, and Caleb is out with the guys.

I'm too tired to stand on my feet any longer, so I turn my back to lean against the door and slowly slide down it until my butt hits the floor. Sooner or later, Zoey and Caleb will show up.

I wake with a groggy start to the realization that someone has picked me up and is carrying me. Fear shoots through me, causing my heart rate to pick up as I immediately begin to struggle.

“It's me, Angel,” I hear a familiar voice reassure. That's when I smell the scent of Ace's cologne and recognize the rock-hard chest I'm resting against. I relax in his arms and force my heavy eyelids open. I blink hazily as I note that he's carrying me into his apartment. I'm gently set on the couch, then I see Ace squatting in front of me, frowning. “What were you doing sitting outside your apartment?”

I can't help but give him a loopy smile. “I've missed you.”

His frown turns into a scowl as he leans closer to me. I think he's going to kiss me until he inhales deeply. “Are you
drunk?
”

“Trashed,” I correct as I fight back a yawn. “I got locked out.”

“Locked out of your apartment? Don't you have your key?”

“It's on my dresser. Caleb and Zoey have my spare,” I frown as I try to use my toe to pull off my high heel on my other foot. It's not cooperating.

“Stop,” Ace orders, putting his hand on my thigh to get me to look at him. His expression is more than a little pissed off, causing me to stare at him with surprise. “Where is Zoey?” he asks slowly and distinctly, like he's just barely holding on to his temper.

“At the club,” I tell him. “I insisted on getting a cab and coming home on my own.” I smile at him brightly. “Independence, remember?”

Ace sighs and runs a hand over his jaw as he studies me. “It's hard telling when they'll get back. You want to crash on the sofa?”

“If I can get my shoes off,” I mumble as I try to kick one off.

“Babe, they buckle. They ain't sliding off with just a push of your toe,” he says patiently as he picks up one foot and unbuckles the shoe easily. He sets it aside and turns his attention to my other foot and removes the shoe. “Better?” he asks as he runs his hand over my right foot, rubbing the arch slightly.

I release a small moan and collapse against the back of the couch. “Don't stop. That feels good.”

Ace mutters a curse under his breath and stands up to lean over me. “I think it's time you go to sleep. Here, lie down.” He pushes on my shoulder, and I allow him to ease me down until I'm on my side. My eyes immediately drift shut. “Faith? Do you mind if I hold you?” he asks quietly as he loosens my hair from its up-do before brushing a strand away from my ear.

“I'd like that,” I murmur drowsily.

I'm almost asleep when I feel Ace gently ease a pillow under my head. He climbs onto the sofa behind me, and a light blanket settles over us. One of his arms slips beneath me and the other wraps around me, enveloping me in his embrace.

I feel safe and protected—exactly where I want to be.

I'm having the most amazing dream about Faith's little ass when I wake up to the reality of it pressed against my groin. I fight back a groan as I lie behind her on the couch, struggling to erase the dream from my mind as I enjoy the feel of her sweet body curving into mine.

“Her boob's hanging out,” I hear Jeremy muse from somewhere directly in front of us.

My eyes pop open, and I lift my head slightly to peer blearily at Jeremy. He's standing in front of the couch, arms crossed while his eyes are focused on Faith's chest with appreciation.

What the...?

I ease up slightly and peer over her shoulder. Sure enough, the poor excuse of a shirt she's wearing is gaping open, and one of her small breasts is bared to Jeremy's prying eyes. Irritation sweeps through me as I reach over and adjust the material to hide the tiny, pink bud and the swell of her tit.

That's when I see it.

She's got one hand tucked under her cheek like a little child while the other one rests near her chest. I have full view of the small hummingbird tattoo on her right wrist. It's delicate and so detailed that it almost looks real.

I know that work.

Fucking Logan.

She saw him this week. Jealousy coils in my gut at the thought of him touching Faith. I know him well enough to know he can't keep his dick in his pants. He probably hit on Faith the entire time she was there. Had she enjoyed it and flirted back since Tuesday night went to shit?

Jeremy whistles softly. “You look like you want to kill someone.”

I shoot him a look as I carefully ease out from behind Faith's warm body. The second I'm off the couch, she makes a soft, sleepy sound and rolls onto her back, the shirt falling open again. Fucking A! I'm going to kill Zoey for dressing her up like this now that Jeremy keeps getting an eyeful of my girl's tits. I quickly bend over her and adjust the shirt. Then on second thought, I grab the blanket and pull it up to her chin. There. No more peep show for Jeremy.

“Dang. I never had a thing for small tits, but hers are real nice. I'd be willing to—” Jeremy's voice cuts off in a grunt as I give him a hard shove towards the kitchen.

“Asshole. Quit ogling her, she's too good for the likes of you.”
Or me
, I can't help but think. Even though I know Faith deserves better, I still can't let her go. “You just get home?” I ask as I keep my voice low so as not to wake Faith.

Jeremy walks to the refrigerator and grabs a carton of orange juice from inside it. He chugs almost half of it before he sets it down on the counter and grins widely. “I went home with one of the cage dancers.”

I think of the sexy cage dancers we'd seen at the nightclub; and I'd enjoyed watching them, but I hadn't been into wanting to party. While the others picked up girls, I spent my time bullshitting with Caleb since he wasn't scouting for pussy. After a while, I bailed on them and claimed I had a headache. After what had gone down Tuesday night, I just didn't feel like putting on a show and pretending everything was fine. Not to mention that I had no intention of hooking up with anyone. I had known that sooner or later I'd get razzed about it if I didn't start searching for available ass.

The second I'd spied Faith asleep in front of her apartment, I'd been thankful I'd bailed when I had. Anyone could have walked by and taken advantage of her. With as small as she is and as drunk as she'd obviously been, she never would have been able to put up a fight.

I'm beyond pissed at Zoey, and I am in the mindset to haul ass next door and rip her a new one for allowing Faith to go home alone. Unfortunately, if I do that, Caleb will get involved. If I get up in Zoey's face, he'll be up in mine. It's best to let it go if I don't want to get in another argument with Caleb over Faith. It's bad enough I've been seeing her behind his back. I'm so fucked when it comes to our friendship. He's going to want to beat the ever lovin' shit out of me when he finds out about us.

“What's going on with you and Faith? Better yet, why were you on the couch with her?” Jeremy asks, gaining my attention.

It's not like I can tell Jeremy that Faith has an aversion to my bedroom. I got rid of the bed, and it's been bad enough dealing with Jeremy grilling me about it. He knows about my kink, and the fact that I can't secure any restraints anywhere in my room has him downright suspicious.

“Nothing is going on,” I outright lie as I walk over and reach for the orange juice. “We're just good friends, nothing more. She locked herself out of her place and was waiting for either Caleb or Zoey to come home so she could use her spare.” I take a swig of the juice and hope he'll drop it.

“You like that shit?” Jeremy asks.

I glance at the carton of juice. “It's O.J. What's not to like?”

“I was referring to the shit coming out of your mouth.”

Fuck.

Jeremy crosses his arms over his chest as he leans a hip against the counter. “You think I didn't notice lately that your car is in the lot on the evenings I come home, but you're nowhere to be found? I know you're friends with Faith, but the second I heard you got her a little pussycat, and then you tore apart your bed and dumped it in the dumpster, I knew,” he says as he gives me a level stare.

I need to shut Jeremy's mouth for him before he goes and fucks up the only good thing to happen to me since...well, ever. I straighten up to my full height and give him a look that he's well-versed with. It's my 'I'll fuck you over hard if you mess with what I want' look. I point my finger at him and warn him in a low, deceptively calm tone, “You keep your mouth shut, you hear? No one can know about me and Faith, not until we're ready.”

“Am I allowed to ask why?” Jeremy asks dryly, but his eyes are now sober.

“Caleb's why. He's warned me off her numerous times, and shit will hit the fan when he finds out. Let me and Faith figure out our relationship before we have to deal with a pissed off Caleb.”

“You're fucked, man,” Jeremy says with a shake of his head. “You broke 'guy code' with him, and if this thing with her ends in a bad way, it's going to affect everyone,” he mutters.

I know exactly what he's saying. If I piss off Caleb, it won't be easy to remain friends with Zoey. We all hang and mix with the same circle of friends. Fighting with Caleb will affect not only me, but likely everyone else.

Jeremy shakes his head, his eyes shifting to where Faith is still out cold on the couch. “You sure this thing with her is worth it? Because if this is just a passing phase of yours, you need to end it now before things go bad,” he warns as he directs his attention back to me.

I hold his gaze. “I haven't fucked anyone since she came into my life. I've found that I can commit, and I'm doing my damnedest to make this work with her. She's not some phase, I think she's my future.”

A groan escapes Jeremy, and he looks a bit forlorn. “Not you, too. What the fuck am I supposed to do if my two best friends are tied down to pussy?”

“Find a pussy to hold on to permanently,” I joke.

Jeremy shoots me a look. “Not happening.”

Going by the way his body is tensing up, I'm guessing that the topic isn't open for discussion. “We'll see. Hey, do me a favor? Go get Faith's spare key from next door.”

“Really?” he asks, giving me a look that says he's not my errand boy.

“You think I should be knocking on their door this morning asking for her key after she spent the night on the couch with me? You do it and say that I'm in the shower. If they ask where I slept, I slept on the opposite couch.”

Jeremy sighs. “Fine.”

While Jeremy heads next door, I start pulling out eggs from the refrigerator. Scrambled eggs is about the only thing I cook on the stove. Every so often I glance at Faith, and she still hasn't even twitched. I shake my head as I stir the eggs in the frying pan. She's going to have one hell of a hangover when she wakes up.

We also need to have that talk I've been dreading. I don't want to do it while she's hung over, so it'll have to wait until later today. My chest tightens at the thought of admitting what went down at that camp when I was younger. I'd prefer not to tell her, but I know enough from watching Caleb and Zoey's relationship to know that the truth is always best. I just hope she doesn't look at me differently once I tell her. That woman has the ability to single-handedly crush me, and then I'll be in Jeremy's shoes. I have no urge to experience being in love with someone who doesn't return it. I know Zoey loves Jeremy, but not in the way he wants her to. I don't know how he does it. Day after day, he has to watch Zoey and Caleb, and those two can practically catch the air on fire when they are horny and in the same room together.

I'm just dividing the scrambled eggs onto two plates when Jeremy enters the apartment, carefully shutting the door behind him so that Faith doesn't wake up. He walks into the kitchenette area and sets a key on the counter. “That one for me?” he asks, nodding to one of the plates.

“Yeah, I don't think she'll be eating anytime soon,” I say as I grab some forks out of the utensil drawer. For a few minutes we're both silent as we stand around the kitchen and eat. When Jeremy's finished, he sets his plate in the sink and looks at me. “Zo's feeling pretty bad that Faith was locked out of her apartment.”

“As she should be,” I say with a hint of relish. I've always had a soft spot for Zoey. She's always picked up on the fact that I have a shit past and we've been able to understand one another. Even when she was pushing us all away, I could understand it. I'd still do anything for her, but Faith is beginning to mean something to me in other ways. I hope there never comes a day where I have to choose between them. Just the thought has me feeling ill.

“I didn't get much sleep last night, so I'm crashing,” Jeremy announces before he disappears down the hall.

I spend the next couple of minutes cleaning the kitchen. Since I know Faith will have a hang over, I grab a bottle of water and a couple aspirin to set on the table near her. Then, as an afterthought, I empty out the garbage from the bathroom and bring it in the living room. If she's a puker, she'll need it.

I can't resist staring at her as she sleeps. She looks so peaceful and innocent. I fight back a smile as I think of the naughtier side she has that I don't think she's even aware of. It'd made an appearance Tuesday night when she'd taken over. I'd enjoyed it up until I'd freaked out.

Wait a second. Where's her freckles?

With a scowl, I squat down in front of her and peer at her face. All I see is creamy skin and the faint traces of black smudges from her eyelashes. She covered up her freckles. A bad feeling creeps up on me, and I wonder if she'd been trying to impress someone. Like maybe Logan? I reach out and gently brush my thumb across her skin where her freckles should be. Do I have to go have words with that fucker? If I have to publicly stake my claim on her before I'm ready in hopes of keeping Logan from her, I will.

Faith stirs beneath my touch, and I jerk my hand back. I hadn't meant to wake her up. Her dark lashes flutter as her body shifts. She lets out a groan, putting a hand to her head. Yep, she's hurtin' this morning.

Her eyes slowly open, and she looks confused as she stares up at the ceiling. Her head moves slightly, and she blinks with surprise when she sees me still squatting before the couch. “Ace?” she asks, her voice slightly husky from sleep.

The sound of her voice has my dick hardening. I ignore it. “Morning. Do you remember being locked out of your apartment?” I ask lightly.

Her eyebrows draw together, and I watch as recognition flickers across her features. “I do. You let me stay here.”

“I have your spare. Jeremy went next door to grab it earlier.”

“Oh, tell him thanks for me.” She cautiously sits up, putting a hand to her head. “Ugh. I have the worst headache.”

“I've got some aspirin here for you. You feeling sick?” I ask, my hand reaching for the garbage.

“No. Well, maybe a little, but I don't think I'm going to throw up or anything. I need that aspirin,” she says as she brings her legs down to the floor and faces me.

The blanket drops, and her shirt immediately falls open. I get an eyeful of pert tits and delicate, little nipples. If she weren't feeling the effects of a hangover, I'd be reaching out and playing with those little buds that are just begging for my attention.

“Ace?”

My eyes jerk up from her chest to meet her questioning gaze. I clear my throat and motion to her shirt. “Your shirt's fallen open.”

She looks down at herself and gasps. She quickly pulls the material together with one hand and reaches behind her neck, searching for something. “The tie came loose, that's why the neckline is so low.” She looks at me sheepishly. “Will you retie it for me?”

“Turn around.” She turns her back to me and pulls her hair out of the way. I get a beautiful view of her bare back and her tats. If she'd worn this shirt for me, I'd be enjoying it a little more. Instead, she went out in it without the intent to look good for me. Was she secretly hoping to run into Logan? I carefully untie and retie her top before easing away. I grab the bottle of water and aspirin. When she turns around, I offer them to her.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly.

I give her time to down the aspirin before asking, “You wear that shirt for someone special last night?”