Page 10
Story: Falling Away (Fall Away #3)
I shook my head. “Neither of us is going over. I’m keeping my nose clean, and you’re severely underage and without a party buddy.”
Her eyes practically twinkled. “Oh, no,” she gasped, putting her palm to her chest. “I can’t be without a party buddy,” she said as she stood up.
I stared at her. “What are you doing?”
She inched past the chair toward the entryway, smirking with her hand still on her chest. “Without a party buddy, I might do something moronic,” she teased, still moving away, “like take a mysterious drink laced with GHB from a tattooed ex-con who wants to take me upstairs to introduce me to his buddies!” She opened the door as I scrambled off the floor. “Bye,” she yelled.
And then she bolted out the front door, slamming it shut.
“Shane!” I growled, scurrying after her.
Damn, damn, damn! I pulled open the door, darted out to the porch, and … shit! Spinning around, I dived back into the house and shoved my feet into my black flip-flops that were lying in the entryway.
Yanking open the door again, I ran outside, leaping over all the steps on the porch and landing on the brick walkway.
Ugh, that girl!
She was gone. Twisting left and then right, I didn’t see her sparkly white top anywhere. She was already at the party, and I sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm the tornado in my stomach.
Eighteen. Without a buddy. And the closest person I’d had to real family in a long time. All good reasons to go get her.
I looked down at my outfit. Sloppy and disheveled, in clothes that hung on me, hair kinky with the natural wave that I hadn’t straightened out after my shower and barely any makeup on.
Well, the good thing was I’d push off any unwanted attention. That was for sure.
I stomped across the lawn, feeling the sharp blades of grass poke my ankles. The sun had set an hour ago, but the wet heat still hung in the air, and my back suddenly cooled with the light layer of sweat already coating it.
The long driveway was packed with cars—two rows, five deep—and the street was a damn parking lot. I recognized most of the cars I’d seen earlier. Different makes and models, some with loud paint and design work, others calm, clean, and sleek-looking. There were even cars parked in the middle of Fall Away Lane, as if the neighborhood residents wouldn’t need their own street to drive on tonight.
I noticed that the garage—which sat on the other side of the house—had been extended from a two-car to a three-car, and the house had been refreshed with new white paint, although the shutters had been changed from navy blue to black.
My ears perked up when a new song started, and I actually recognized it. “Heaven Knows” by the Pretty Reckless. Nik had listened to it a lot at school.
Partygoers were scattered about as I walked onto the porch and stepped through the open doorway, trying not to think about the last time I was here.
But then I couldn’t think about anything as I immediately deflated and gawked at the inside of the house.
Oh, my God. Wow.
More than the exterior had been upgraded. My eyes darted up, down, and all around as I took in new, bold paint making the house so much more inviting, and the carpet in the living room that had been torn away to reveal shiny hardwood floors. Everything in the rooms that I could get a glimpse of was made to accommodate a bachelor and his parties.
Three huge flat-screens lined the wall in the family room where the pool table still sat. The furniture in the living room had been replaced with deep leather couches and more flat-screens, and as I peered to the back of the house, I could see glimpses of a renovated kitchen as well.
“A lot’s changed, Juliet.” Shane’s voice came back to me. Yeah, so it would seem.
Katherine Trent—or Katherine Caruthers now—had kept a nice house before, but this was … well, I didn’t know how to describe it.
Loaded? Indulgent? Hot. Definitely hot.
I liked the red walls in the living room, the midnight blue walls in the family room, and the cappuccino-colored walls in the foyer. I liked the black-framed prints of Native Americans wearing various headdresses and jewelry on the walls leading up to the second floor, and even though black leather couches usually creeped me out, the ones in the living room weren’t cheap. They were deep and lush, and expensive looking. Everything looked so well kept and clean.
“K.C.?”
I spun around, coming face-to-face with Liam.
And I swallowed my fucking gum.
I winced, not even trying to hide the look. The sight of his blue doe eyes and polite expression gave me a sudden urge to breathe fire in his stupid, fat face. Was this seriously happening to me right now?
He stood in the doorway, holding hands with the very same redhead I’d caught him with at the club last week. She had on a black, strapless dress, and her hair was full of volume and looking sexy as it fell around her.
Great. And I picked today to get rebellious with my appearance. I shook my head at the irony.
When he’d cheated on me in high school, I’d taken him back. Stupidly. I felt as if I’d done something wrong—something to push him away—and he’d honestly seemed sorry for what he’d done. After seeing how Jared had treated Tate through most of high school, I was actually grateful to have a boyfriend who brought me flowers when I was sick and who put up with my mother’s attitude.
When I caught him cheating again a couple of weeks ago, I was done.
“Liam.” I sighed, trying to look bored. “Doesn’t Jax hate you? Why are you here?”
Her eyes practically twinkled. “Oh, no,” she gasped, putting her palm to her chest. “I can’t be without a party buddy,” she said as she stood up.
I stared at her. “What are you doing?”
She inched past the chair toward the entryway, smirking with her hand still on her chest. “Without a party buddy, I might do something moronic,” she teased, still moving away, “like take a mysterious drink laced with GHB from a tattooed ex-con who wants to take me upstairs to introduce me to his buddies!” She opened the door as I scrambled off the floor. “Bye,” she yelled.
And then she bolted out the front door, slamming it shut.
“Shane!” I growled, scurrying after her.
Damn, damn, damn! I pulled open the door, darted out to the porch, and … shit! Spinning around, I dived back into the house and shoved my feet into my black flip-flops that were lying in the entryway.
Yanking open the door again, I ran outside, leaping over all the steps on the porch and landing on the brick walkway.
Ugh, that girl!
She was gone. Twisting left and then right, I didn’t see her sparkly white top anywhere. She was already at the party, and I sucked in breath after breath, trying to calm the tornado in my stomach.
Eighteen. Without a buddy. And the closest person I’d had to real family in a long time. All good reasons to go get her.
I looked down at my outfit. Sloppy and disheveled, in clothes that hung on me, hair kinky with the natural wave that I hadn’t straightened out after my shower and barely any makeup on.
Well, the good thing was I’d push off any unwanted attention. That was for sure.
I stomped across the lawn, feeling the sharp blades of grass poke my ankles. The sun had set an hour ago, but the wet heat still hung in the air, and my back suddenly cooled with the light layer of sweat already coating it.
The long driveway was packed with cars—two rows, five deep—and the street was a damn parking lot. I recognized most of the cars I’d seen earlier. Different makes and models, some with loud paint and design work, others calm, clean, and sleek-looking. There were even cars parked in the middle of Fall Away Lane, as if the neighborhood residents wouldn’t need their own street to drive on tonight.
I noticed that the garage—which sat on the other side of the house—had been extended from a two-car to a three-car, and the house had been refreshed with new white paint, although the shutters had been changed from navy blue to black.
My ears perked up when a new song started, and I actually recognized it. “Heaven Knows” by the Pretty Reckless. Nik had listened to it a lot at school.
Partygoers were scattered about as I walked onto the porch and stepped through the open doorway, trying not to think about the last time I was here.
But then I couldn’t think about anything as I immediately deflated and gawked at the inside of the house.
Oh, my God. Wow.
More than the exterior had been upgraded. My eyes darted up, down, and all around as I took in new, bold paint making the house so much more inviting, and the carpet in the living room that had been torn away to reveal shiny hardwood floors. Everything in the rooms that I could get a glimpse of was made to accommodate a bachelor and his parties.
Three huge flat-screens lined the wall in the family room where the pool table still sat. The furniture in the living room had been replaced with deep leather couches and more flat-screens, and as I peered to the back of the house, I could see glimpses of a renovated kitchen as well.
“A lot’s changed, Juliet.” Shane’s voice came back to me. Yeah, so it would seem.
Katherine Trent—or Katherine Caruthers now—had kept a nice house before, but this was … well, I didn’t know how to describe it.
Loaded? Indulgent? Hot. Definitely hot.
I liked the red walls in the living room, the midnight blue walls in the family room, and the cappuccino-colored walls in the foyer. I liked the black-framed prints of Native Americans wearing various headdresses and jewelry on the walls leading up to the second floor, and even though black leather couches usually creeped me out, the ones in the living room weren’t cheap. They were deep and lush, and expensive looking. Everything looked so well kept and clean.
“K.C.?”
I spun around, coming face-to-face with Liam.
And I swallowed my fucking gum.
I winced, not even trying to hide the look. The sight of his blue doe eyes and polite expression gave me a sudden urge to breathe fire in his stupid, fat face. Was this seriously happening to me right now?
He stood in the doorway, holding hands with the very same redhead I’d caught him with at the club last week. She had on a black, strapless dress, and her hair was full of volume and looking sexy as it fell around her.
Great. And I picked today to get rebellious with my appearance. I shook my head at the irony.
When he’d cheated on me in high school, I’d taken him back. Stupidly. I felt as if I’d done something wrong—something to push him away—and he’d honestly seemed sorry for what he’d done. After seeing how Jared had treated Tate through most of high school, I was actually grateful to have a boyfriend who brought me flowers when I was sick and who put up with my mother’s attitude.
When I caught him cheating again a couple of weeks ago, I was done.
“Liam.” I sighed, trying to look bored. “Doesn’t Jax hate you? Why are you here?”
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