Finding A Way (4 page)

"Don't go around yelling that too loud! People think I've been in Malibu on vacation!" I joke.

This is why I can't wait to get the hell out of here. Unlike my parents and this entire town of people, Sierra doesn't think I'm crazy. She knows my parents blew it out of proportion just so their social circle would feel bad for them instead of talking about them behind their backs. Their rich friends are judgmental assholes if you ask me. I try to stay clear of them as much as possible. There's no denying the truth though. I don't like them or their spoiled little kids. And they definitely don't like me.

"Vacation. You're funny," she teases.

Grabbing me by the arm she drags me onto the stoop outside, forcing me out of the doorway. I step outside, the summer air warming my skin. It's the perfect time of year when some days are still hot, but the majority of them have cooled down to a comfortable temperature.

"Move your ass woman. My two favorite people need a proper introduction! You have to meet Evan!" Sierra says, pulling me down the steps. She tugs me with a little more force before dropping the bomb on me which has the opportunity to change everything. "... And his friend."

Friend?
She never mentioned bringing anyone except herself and Evan, but then again she didn't mention coming a day early, either.
Please don't be hot.
Please be the ugliest friend I've ever seen.

I haven't given any men a second glance lately. Truth be told, that's because none of the guys, or rather,
the boys
—definitely not men around here haven't floated my boat in the right way. Knowing Sierra and her delicious taste in men, her boyfriend and his friend will be the hottest guy on the planet. I'm talking drooling-on-myself-cut-their-picture-out-of-a-magazine-and-tape-them-to-my-wall-and-try-not-to-lick-the-picture kind of hot.

My curiosity sparks. I let her lead the way over to her car and the moving truck sitting in the driveway. I spot two men leaning casually against the truck, smoking cigarettes, looking all tough and rugged. I knew it—drool-worthy.

The first guy is shorter than the other. He has shaggy black hair which almost gives him a grunge look, tattoos spaced proportionally on his arms, and a killer smile. He's dressed in a pair of Chuck Taylor's, like me, except his aren’t pink. His muscular build is complemented by a blue V-neck T-shirt and light washed denim jeans. He's very attractive, but I assume from the way he beams at Sierra the entire time, he is Evan. He watches her with such adoration, it makes butterflies fly around in my own stomach. He's obviously crazy over her. Sierra is every man's fantasy wrapped into one tall, thin, blonde package.

I flick my gaze to the other man who stands much taller than Evan and much more muscular, also with tattoos. He has so many more than Evan that I couldn't count them if I tried. There is no bare skin on his arms; every spot is filled with designs and eye popping color. I look him over slowly. He has short brown hair, even shorter on the sides, which screams for me to pull on it. The day old stubble covering the lower half of his face is what sex is made of. I can't stop the thoughts of what it would feel like rubbing against my thighs. He's rugged and absolutely all man. His black t-shirt seems stretched, getting ready to rip in half at any minute by his muscular upper body. I watch his muscles ripple, the pure strength of them amazing. He smokes his cigarette, not letting on that he knows I’m watching him. My mouth waters at the thought of the six pack I just know lies underneath his tight t-shirt. His legs are covered in ripped dark blue jeans and he wears a pair of black work boots. To say he's just good looking is an understatement. He's as sexy as they come. Too bad he’s a broken heart waiting to happen.

I try to imagine what he does for a living, but there are too many possibilities. Bouncer? Maybe. Police officer? Probably not. Construction? Good possibility as well. Bodybuilder? This one could be the winner, but the fact he doesn't look like a meat head has me second-guessing it as a no.

The shorter guy makes the first move, snapping me from my mystery man trance. He extends his hand, which I accept graciously. His hands are large, but my guess is mystery man's will be larger. I bet nothing on his body is small. A man can't look like that and have anything less than the best of everything.

"I'm Evan. Nice to finally meet ya. I know we've talked on the phone a couple times but, it's nice to meet ya in person," he begins, showcasing his beautiful white teeth.

I can't help but blush at his Boston accent which lingers when he speaks. I move in to give him a hug, letting out a small laugh. He accepts my offer and I instantly know we will be good friends. His hug speaks volumes, telling me he already cares about me because he cares for my best friend.

"It's nice to meet you too!" I grin, releasing him from my grip. "Thank you for coming.”

He shrugs his shoulders, lowering his head to stare at the blacktop which strikes me as odd until I turn to see Sierra glaring at him. If I know my best friend and I think I do, she absolutely threatened him, telling him he better not even look at me in any other way than a friendly way.

"No problem. It's the least I can do. We
will
be roomies,” he says, glancing back up to meet my eyes.

He nods in the other guy’s direction, clearing his throat before he speaks. "That's my buddy Mac. He got suckered into driving the moving truck."

I turn to face his friend, seeing him reach his hand out like Evan did. I smile brightly at him, placing my hand in his. He’s a lot better looking up close. I don't go in for the hug I gave Evan because chances are I wouldn't pull out of his arms. They look inviting and comfortable as hell.

"Nice to meet you Mac. Thanks for coming to help out."

He doesn't let go of my hand quickly like Evan did. Instead, he leans in a little closer, letting me get a good look at his bright green eyes. Those eyes will be the death of me. I know it already. No one has eyes like that, not without having the game to match them. He speaks in a very deep, masculine voice that causes me to shiver. The goosebumps pebble over my skin, adorning it with small kisses, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up straight in attention.
Did I just shiver from someone's voice?
I need to get a grip on the twinge between my legs which has a mind of its own right now.

"You're welcome sweetheart. It's no problem. I really came just to meet the beautiful woman Sierra wouldn't shut up about the past two weeks." He flashes me a panty dissolving grin.

Ah. He’s not only incredibly sexy, but he also has charm. I knew he had it hidden somewhere. The minute he spoke, I felt the heat creep up my body, making its way to my face where a tell-all blush reddens my cheeks. I decide to not let him know he affects me. So, I give him a playful smile instead, pulling my hand from his grip.

"Well, I can only imagine how much your ear has been talked off. Sierra seems to have a knack for that. Did her description rival meeting the real thing?" I cock my brow at him figuring there's nothing wrong with a little innocent flirting. I will have be around this guy since he's friends with Sierra and Evan. So, I might as well make light of the mood now or I'm going to get myself in trouble.

He lets out a small chuckle, looking me up and down suggestively. I feel every inch of myself as his eyes take me in. His gaze lingers a little too long on my hips, and I assume he's imagining what it would be like to have them wrapped around him
.

His tongue licks at his lips. "Her description didn't do you justice, sweetheart."

I feel my cheeks redden a little more. Sierra lets out a knowing laugh, breaking the intensity between Mac and I. Sierra gestures toward the house, bidding for us to get out of the driveway. As much as I want to thank her, I'm a little pissed she stopped our introduction. I guess it is pretty rude to leave us all standing in my driveway after all.

"Are you going to invite us in or what, Cal? I need to pee, and the guys probably want food. I wouldn't let them stop to get dunkies even though they complained how much they wanted it for that last three hours straight." She shoots them both a wicked glare, to which they hold their hands up in surrender. They’re smart men. A pissed off Sierra is a force to be reckoned with.

I laugh and invite everyone inside. Sierra bolts to use the bathroom at the end of the hall off of the living room. The guys stand awkwardly, trying to not break any of the expensive shit that is littered everywhere.

My parents are very rich and the house stinks of their wealth. Everything in here is expensive and placed to impress anyone who comes inside. Who needs a China glazed statue of a cat when you've never had an animal in your life? My dad owns a chiropractic business while my mom…well, she doesn't work.
Anymore.

She used to be a contributor to the household but now, with my father making the big salary, my mom just basks in the wealth. She used to have a passion for things beyond diamonds and expensive handbags. She used to have a garden and she adored it like it was another child to her. I loved the garden, too. I grew up watching a tiny seed grow into a beautiful flower year after year. The garden was my safe haven. My one place where everything stopped. I didn't think about my mom and dad constantly bickering over money. I didn't think about the other girls at school making fun of baby fat that just wouldn't leave me.

The older I got, the more I loved it. During my years, pre-Derrick, instead of going out with the kids from school, I lived with the flowers. My mom showed me every trick in the book. She used to tell me,
"Callie Rose, one day you'll find somewhere where you can grow as wild and beautiful as you are. Wild and beautiful as you will become."

This was when she was an actual parent. When she was a mother and I was the daughter. Not like now where I’m nothing more than a guest occupying her home while my father whisks her away on over the top and lavish vacations every other weekend.

When Derrick came along, I traded my peaceful oasis for the things I swore I'd never want: house parties, school dances, football games, drinking, and stupidity. Looking back on it all, I realize that’s what it all was. Risks I took every day. Risks which could kill, and that's what they did. They killed Derrick, and they took a piece of my heart along with them.

Leaving the guys standing in the hall, I make my way into the kitchen and pull out some menus from local restaurants around town.

"What are you guys in the mood for? My parents are buying so make sure it's really expensive," I shout to Mac and Evan, hoping to lighten my now sour mood.

Evan is the only one who answers me whereas Mac stands rigid, hands in his pockets checking out the house still.

"Anything is fine, I'm starving. You choose. Your parents are buying," he laughs, grabbing a seat on the white couch which isn't meant to be sat on, and I smile closed-mouthed at his carefree attitude. He leans back, letting the couch engulf his body while his limbs sag in comfort.

Pizza it is.

Twenty-five minutes later, we all sit at the dining set on the back deck stuffing our faces with pizza and beer. Sierra checks the time and cleans up plates and beer bottles. Evan stands and places his hand on the small of Sierra's back while Mac stubs out his smoke in the ashtray.

"Well, we're gonna get going. We gotta check into the hotel by nine, otherwise I'll be sleeping in the car with these two fools. As great as it might sound, it's definitely not. Evan snores like a hippo and Mac, well, that would just be weird." She nods to Evan and Mac, cracking a playful smile toward them.

I stop her, glaring. "You're not staying in a hotel. There's plenty of room here and you know my parents are out of town for the next two days."

My parents conveniently left for a work convention knowing I’m about to leave for college. From what I understand, Dad had some urgent business there that needed to be attended to. Too bad I saw right through their lies.

Assholes.

Sierra shoots a grin to Evan, smacking her gum. "See Evan, I told you she wouldn't make us stay in a hotel!"

I laugh at her. She has always had an attitude of always being right. I love it. She wouldn't be my best friend without it.

"He said he didn't want to
impose
. Whatever the hell that means! I tried to tell him your casa es su casa, but he told me to stop being a brat and consider other people. Like that will ever happen," Sierra says.