Ruin (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Holy crap.
I was going to eat turkey in front of Randy Michels. Uncle Jobob was going to flip!

Kiersten

“He got down on bended knee?” Lisa screeched as she ran around my room in a frenzy. “What did you do?”

“I said yes, of course.” I laughed, throwing some more clothes into my suitcase. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to bring or wear. Uncle Jo about crapped himself when I told him the plan. He was so happy I was actually doing something that he started crying on the other end of the phone. When I pointed it out, he said a mosquito had flown into his eye. Right, in November.

It also helped matters that he’d idolized Randy Michels for years. I was under strict instructions by my uncle to marry Wes at all costs. He even offered to drive us to Vegas. Yeah, so basically I had the coolest uncle in the world. Nobody could argue that. He and my aunt were planning a huge celebration with the rest of the family. They were going to Skype me on Turkey Day so I could say hi to everyone.

“I would have freaked out.” Lisa fell onto my bed with a loud sigh. “I mean, I’m freaking out now and it didn’t even happen to me!”

“Right.” I tugged a shirt out from underneath her and folded it into my suitcase.

“You’re dating Weston Michels.” She gave another giggle and then jolted up from her bed, “Oh my gosh! Have you sl—”

“Don’t go there.” I pointed at her face. “We’ve kissed, like once — or twice now, actually.”

“What? Twice?” I swear her scream just woke hibernating bears in Alaska. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I knew,” Gabe said from the door, giving me a wink and slapping me on the shoulder as he walked by.

“Helpful Gabe, thank you.” I glared.

Lisa crossed her arms and pouted. “Everyone knew but me?”

“No, Gabe just saw me doing the walk of shame one morning and jumped to conclusions. I had to clear the air, otherwise he would have assumed the worst, because well, it’s Gabe.”

“True.”

“And the rest is history.”

Lisa seemed satisfied with that answer because about two minutes later she grinned. “Is he a good kisser?”

“Do we have to discuss this now?” Gabe complained. “Wait until I’m not in the room.”

“So leave.” Lisa shrugged.

“Can’t.” He pushed her to the side of the bed so he could sit down. “I have to send off my favorite girl. You know, give her all the normal warnings about what guys think, and why she should never under any circumstances watch a movie with a member of the opposite sex after eleven p.m.”

“Huh?” I stopped folding clothes. “Why not?”

“Sex.” Gabe glared “Studies show that testosterone skyrockets while watching horror movies, add that into nighttime and touching, and you, my friend, have a recipe for a baby rattle and no future.”

Lisa gaped. “Wow, where were you during my sex ed classes in high school?”

“Players know the game well, don’t they?” I teased.

“Only the stars.” He blew me a kiss and held up his hand for a high five.

Lisa slapped it.

I rolled my eyes at her.

“What?” She shrugged. “He really is so talented in the field.”

“And you know this how? Cousins? Remember?”

“Family equals no secrets.” Lisa nodded. “And it helps that three sororities rank guys on a scale of one to ten. Care to take a guess about Gabe’s rating?”

“Five?” I lifted my eyebrows.

Gabe shot me a glare.

“Eleven.” Lisa sounded proud. “They put him in his own ranking.”

“I’ll probably be president one day.” Gabe gave us both cocky grins and patted himself on the back.

“I don’t know why, but I feel the need to congratulate you on being a whore. Why does that feel wrong?” I tapped my finger against my chin. “Oh right, because it is. One of these days it’s going to catch up with you.”

“Never.” Gabe shook his head. “A player plays by the rules, knows the game plan, knows every possible strategy and execution. Me getting caught would be like Chuck Norris dying in a stunt. Um, it won’t happen. Want to know why? Because he’s bad ass.”

“Did you just compare your sexual prowess to Chuck Norris’s karate skills?” I asked.

“Same thing.” Gabe shrugged.

Shaking my head, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. “Crap! He’s going to be here! Hurry, hurry! I have to put everything in my bag.”

“Everything?” Gabe glanced around the room. “Are you planning on moving in?”

Lisa’s answer was to smack him on the back of the head. With a growl he jumped to his feet and started piling stuff in my suitcases. I even caught him try to throw my alarm clock in. Seriously?

“Done!” Lisa sat on the suitcase while Gabe zipped.

“I love you guys,” I gushed, pulling them both in for hugs.

Gabe patted my head like I was twelve, and Lisa looked like she was going to cry. You’d think I’d never visited a boy’s house before. Oh wait. Right.

Someone knocked on our door.

Lisa ran out of my room banging her arm against the sofa as she made her way across the living room and finally opened up the door.

“Hey, Lisa.” Wes grinned and handed her a paper turkey. “Made it myself.” He peered around her. “My girlfriend ready?”

And my roommate officially swooned against the door, putting the back of her hand against her forehead. Gabe was going to have to give her CPR.

“Be still my beating heart!” Lisa said in a southern drawl. “Sugar, your man is here and he is fine, fine, fine.”

“Sorry.” Gabe grabbed Lisa by the shoulders and steered her away from Wes. “She forgot to take her meds today.”

“It’s okay.” Wes chuckled and then lifted his eyes. I stared straight back.

Time stilled.

Okay so maybe it didn’t stop, but for some reason my heart started racing as he took purposeful steps towards me.

First his hands braced my hips.

And then his mouth found mine.

And it was my turn to swoon.

Gabe and Lisa both whistled but I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around Wes’s neck, pulling him toward me. Mine. He was mine for two weeks, whatever that meant. Boyfriend.

“My man ready?”

He grinned, kissing my nose. “My freshman ready?”

“Low blow.” I glared.

“Had to be said.” He sighed and kissed my forehead. “I’ll grab your suitcase.”

Lisa sighed while Gabe smacked her on the arm, just as Wes came into the living room with my giant suitcase.

“You do know I didn’t ask you to move in with me, right?” he joked.

“A girl has to be prepared!” Lisa defended me. “And who knows what the Seattle weather will do!”

Wes held up a hand as if to surrender and then nodded towards the door. “Let’s go. My crazy dad awaits.”

“Onward.” I thrust my fist into the air and said goodbye to Gabe and Lisa. I was going to meet the richest man in the world. Awesome, what could go wrong?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Holy shit. I was taking a girl home. Somebody start a fire in Hell
—
because it’s officially frozen over.

Weston

“You nervous?” I asked as we pulled onto Fauntleroy Way in downtown Seattle. It boasted of only twelve houses in the little gated community meaning we had mega privacy. I swear my dad had cameras everywhere, even at the end of the street just in case someone sketchy wanted to get a view one of us in the pool. Not that they could, there was enough landscaping to make the house its own private resort, not to mention the fact that we had over a half mile of private beach. You know, if you could call a rocky coast a beach. But every summer we had sand brought in from the tropics. Just to make it look legit.

“A little.” Kiersten sighed and looked out the window. “So which house is yours?”

“Everything you see on this side of the street towards the water? It’s all ours.”

“Huh?”

“A main house, two cottages, a few tennis courts, a man-made pond, and then that house over there…” I pointed to the far end of the property as the gate opened making it easier for her to see. “…is where my Oma stays when she visits.”

“Uh, Oma?”

“Grandma,” I corrected myself. “Sorry, my mom was one hundred percent Dutch, so when I was little, my grandma was Oma.”

Kiersten grinned and then sucked in a sharp breath as the second gate opened to the main house. I drove through and tried to imagine what it would look like through her eyes.

At least six thousand square feet, not the largest mansion in the world, all glass windows with sharp angles, allowing for the sun to shine through. It was white and had been remodeled from its original brick form in 1927 to look like an architect’s paradise. There were exactly seventeen steps leading to the massive fifteen-foot tall oak entry, and just as I pulled the car to a stop, the butler walked out and opened Kiersten’s door.

“Ma’am, we’ve been expecting you.”

“Ronald.” I nodded my head in his direction.

He grinned at me. At eighty-two, he was a force to be reckoned with. He wasn’t really our butler anymore, since technically he’d retired twenty years ago, but my dad hadn’t the heart to let him go, so now he greeted guests, brewed beer in the cottage my dad let him live in rent-free, and basically kept the house running since my mother’s death.

“Mr. Weston.” Ronald clapped his hands on my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. “It’s been too long, how are you?”

He knew I was sick.

But he never treated me any differently. He just refused to discuss it — I understood though — everyone in his life was gone. He and my brother had been very close. He’d taken Tye’s death really hard and I knew mine would be just something else that might cause his heart to finally give out.

“Good, I feel great,” I lied and hugged him back. “Dad home?”

“In the study waiting.” Ronald smiled and clapped twice. Two staff members ran down the stairs to grab our stuff.

I held out my hand to Kiersten. “Ready to meet my dad?”

“Holy crap.” She wiped her hands on her jeans before latching on to me. “I feel like I’m about to meet the president or something.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Trust me, it’s ‘or something’. He’s not that intimidating. Promise.” I could tell she didn’t believe me. Her eyes kept getting wider and wider as we walked farther into the house. The foyer had a bridge-like walkway that went directly toward the main room. A huge bay window let in tons of light from the front, we took a right and went to the study.

“Dad?” I called.

“In here.”

I kissed Kiersten’s temple as I clenched her hand and led her into the large study. It was decorated in an Old World style, complete with mahogany-wooded walls and matching bookcases.

Dad was sitting behind his large desk, sipping brandy.

“A little early to hit the bottle, eh dad?” I joked.

His eyes narrowed, and then he laughed. “Yes, well, I just fired Alfred, so I imagine I’m allowed to drink.”

“What?” Alfred had been one of my dad’s closest advisors for years. “What for?”

“Embezzlement.”

I cleared my throat and nodded toward Kiersten.

Dad waved me off. “Surely it’s hit CNN by now.” He tapped his desk as a flat screen descended from the West Wall. Sure enough, as soon as the TV came on, there was news about the scandal.

“So.” Dad turned off the TV. “Who is this lovely creature?”

“Kiersten.” She held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Sir?” My dad’s brows furrowed. “Do I look eighty?”

“Er, no?” She gave him a shaky smile.

“Randy.” His eyes twinkled. “You can call me Randy, just don’t call me Dad. It may cause a heart attack. I can’t imagine this one settling down yet.” He pointed at me and shuddered. “Poor boy can barely do his laundry and tie his shoes.”

“Hilarious.” I rolled my eyes.

“You can cook, can’t you?” Randy crossed his arms. “I mean, that’s why you brought her, right, son? To cook Thanksgiving dinner?”

I knew he was kidding.

Kiersten, however, didn’t.

Wide-eyed and pale, she stared at him as her mouth dropped open and then closed again. She looked at me with a hint of panic in her eyes.

I kept a straight face as did Dad.

“I, um…” Kiersten released my hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, a move I’d come to recognize as a nervous tick. She was freaking out. “I could totally put something together. I can’t promise it’ll taste like what you’re used to, but I can try.”

Damn, she was a sweetheart.

“Where’d you say you got her?” Dad said, completely ignoring her answer.

“College.”

“She’s smart.”

“I know.” I put my arm around her.

“And sweet,” Dad pointed out, walking around his desk. “And dare I say… beautiful.”

“All things I’m very aware of. It’s why I stole her away.”

“Smart man.” Dad chuckled and winked at Kiersten. “Dear girl, you don’t have to cook, I was joking. It’s all I have for entertainment these days with Wes gone all the time and his bro—”

Dad’s face went pale. “His brother is no longer with us, as I’m sure you already knew. So I do get lonely. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No problem.” She smiled warmly and patted his forearm. His eyebrow lifted as he offered his arm.

She took it, beaming up at him as if he was the damn sun.

“Now…” Dad cleared his throat, making a nice recovery. “Why don’t we get you settled in your room, and we’ll let Wes get us something cold to drink. You do know you’re welcome to stay the entire break. We love visitors, and anything you need, I’ll be sure to have Melda—” He stopped talking to Kiersten and yelled, “Melda!”

“Here, sir.” Melda came around the corner, demure as ever. She was Ronald’s wife, also late in her years, but the best cook in the known universe.

“Melda here…” Dad gestured and then directed his attention back to Kiersten, “…will be sure to get you anything you desire. Hot chocolate? Coffee?”

“Coffee.” Kiersten nodded. “Never hot chocolate.”

“Son,” Dad called back to me. “Find me one about twenty five years older and we’ll talk.”

Kiersten frowned in confusion. “One?”

“A beautiful lady such as yourself.” Dad released her hand, kissed it again, and nodded in my direction. “I think I’ll stop hogging you, and allow my son to give you the grand tour. I’ll get the drinks.”

“Thank you.” Kiersten grinned warmly.

Dad smiled warmly in our direction and walked off.

“I love him,” Kiersten said once he was out of earshot.

“So does the rest of the world.” I chuckled.

“No…” Kiersten put her hand on my arm. “He’s amazing. You’re so lucky to have him. Really. I would do anything to… well, you already know that. You’re just lucky.”

Not really. I mean yes I was damned lucky to have an awesome dad. I was even more lucky that my dad was loaded enough to get me the best drugs, but lucky? I didn’t feel lucky. Not when I was giving Kiersten her first and last tour of my house. I knew how girls worked; the little wheels in her head would be turning ‘round and ‘round, imagining Christmases, birthdays, all normal celebrations. Hell, even New Year’s.

I hadn’t told anyone yet, but when I thought about 2014… When I thought about New Year’s, I couldn’t actually picture myself here. It was as if I was a shadow, no longer existing, but watching from a distance.

The sad part was the minute I watched Kiersten and my dad, I could see her years from now, still charming parents, possibly meeting her future in-laws, and it killed me inside. It actually made me think I was having another bout of nausea from my drugs, but it was all self-inflicted, because again I was reminded of what I would be missing. And it wasn’t the silly things like playing football or getting a bowl game this year.

It was her.

And that made me want to fight even more. Just like Gabe said. I could do this. I could beat it. I’d sure as hell try. In the past, fighting for football or for school had never been a huge pull for me.

But beating this for her?

Yeah. I’d fight demons for her. I’d fight the darkness in me, the sickness. I’d fight that damn tumor. And I’d live. Because I sure as hell wanted a 2014 with that girl in my arms.