Page 12

Chapter 12

Proximity

LEV

C hance and Zara are taking forever.

I should probably leave them alone, but I saw the way my best friend was looking at his stepsister-to-be. It’s the same way I’ve been looking at her all morning. I have a feeling Chance is going to make a move on Zara, and when that happens, I need to make sure she knows that he isn’t the only one who wants her.

I know I need to talk to Chance about it. Our friendship is important to me, and I don’t want to put it at risk. At the same time, though, I really want to get closer to Zara. If he wants the same thing, fine, as long as he knows I’m into her too. After that, may the best man win.

“No, I’m telling you. Mayo will make your grilled cheese crispier. You aren’t going to taste it.” Heather argues with Ares.

“Whatever. Then put mayo on yours. I just fucking hate the stuff. Make mine with butter, or don’t bother making me one at all.” He glares at the mayonnaise jar as if it had personally offended him.

Of course Heather doesn’t back down. “I wish you would trust me. You aren’t even going to know that I used mayonnaise.”

Ares rolls his eyes. “Then don’t make me a sandwich. I’ll just have some pastries.”

“But that isn’t enough for lunch. We need some more food and you know my grilled cheese sandwiches won a prize at last year’s county fair. Trust me this once and try a bite. If you taste the mayo, I swear I’ll make you a new sandwich with just butter.” Heather offers.

“Or,” Ares insists. “You could just make me one without mayo right now and save me from gagging on gross mayo.”

I’ve been watching these two argue the same way you watch a tennis match. It’s crazy how Ares might be identical to his late brother, but while Atlas and Heather were like two peas in a pod, he clashes with her about everything.

“I forgot something outside. I’ll be right back.” I mutter, walking outside from the patio door that leads out to the backyard. They don’t even stop arguing to acknowledge me.

This situation with Zara and Chance could equally turn out to be exciting, or a real source of trouble. Competing to hook up with a girl before Chance gets her is one thing when the stakes are low; usually the worst that can happen is a little bruised ego, but it comes with the territory. Zara is different.

I’ve never felt so drawn to someone. The way she acted during the Blue Lightning challenge two years ago is burned into my memory. Every little thing I notice and discover about her tells me that a hookup wouldn’t even start scratching the surface of the attraction I feel for her. She’s unlike any other woman I’ve met so far. She’s smart, wild, and she doesn’t take any shit from anyone. I knew it the second she refused to take Fox back. I don’t just find Zara beautiful, I want to know what makes her tick. I want to be the one she grabs and kisses after a thrilling race on the back of my bike.

I shake my head. That won’t be possible. At least not in Star Cove. We aren’t even allowed to own or keep a motorcycle within city limits. When Scott drafted the motorcycle ban legislation, I didn’t think much of it. Ares closed Star Arrows a week after the racetrack incident, and I didn’t have much desire to ride a bike, still reeling from the loss of one of my best friends.

Now I’m not so sure banning all motorcycles makes much sense. Of course, I know better than to voice that opinion in front of the mayor, but it’s not like declaring war on bikes is going to bring Atlas back.

The ban doesn’t change my feelings about Zara, though. Whether she’s on a bike or not, I want to see her wild side again. I want to see the same steely determination in her eyes when she told Fox to fuck off. And I want to kiss her again. I’ve been dying to do it since the moment I saw her come back into our lives yesterday afternoon.

There’s no sign of Chance and Zara as I walk through the backyard, headed toward the beach. Is it possible Zara is still hosing the sand off in the outdoor shower?

The noise of running water is all the answer I need. If I expected to see Chance waiting for her outside the cubicle with a towel, however, I’m surprised when I don’t see my friend.

Or at least, Chance isn’t outside. He’s under the shower and his lips are glued to Zara’s.

I clench my fists. Fucker. He took advantage of the situation and he’s making out with her. I’m a little mad, but mostly I’m pissed at myself for not thinking about it first.

Judging by the soft little moans I hear mixed with the noise of the running water, he’s doing more than just kissing her.

I should probably go. Zara isn’t just here for a weekend this time. She’s here to stay. I just need to bide my time and make my move. Chance might work fast, but slow and steady wins the race.

I roll my own eyes at that thought. When was I ever a slow and steady kind of guy? I’m one of the fastest skaters in our team, and fuck knows I used to give the twins a run for their money on two wheels.

The logical thing to do would be to either walk back into the house and pretend I didn’t come out looking for them. Or maybe just rain on Chance’s parade and bust them.

Instead, my feet carry me to the frosted half-doors that close one side of the shower. “You two have been a while. There must have been a lot of sand to wash off. Let me help you out.”

Fuck.

Chance has got Zara pressed against the shower wall. The red bikini top is discarded on the floor, her perfect tits pressed against his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Chance challenges me.

I’ve faced tougher opponents on the ice, and I don’t let him intimidate me. “I’m here to wash her back.” I offer them my cockiest grin.

It’s impossible to miss the conflicted emotions in Chance’s eyes. He probably wants to tell me to fuck off, but he’s hesitant to do that.

“I don’t need any help,” he bites out. “But it’s up to Zara. You can wash her back while I make her come, if she wants you to stay.”

Well played, dude. I almost high-five him for how smart he is. He isn’t being an asshole by kicking me out, but in the meantime, he’s leaving the choice to Zara.

We look at each other, perfectly aware of how high the stakes just became. If she tells me to go, maybe that means I don’t really have a shot with her. If she says that I can stay, vying for her attention might turn out even more fun than I thought it would be.

Zara looks at Chance before setting her jade green eyes on me. Her teeth grab at the corner of her plump bottom lip, tormenting the pink flesh while she thinks about the answer.

I know exactly when she makes up her mind, and my smile widens.

“I would love it, if you could wash my back, Lev.”

Fuck, yes.

Chance’s expression remains unreadable as our eyes meet over Zara’s head. “You heard her.”

I don’t make him say it twice. I pour body-wash on my palm, and encourage Zara to turn sideways, so that she’s caught between me and Chance.

My arms surround her back as I rub the shower gel over her shoulders, lathering up her smooth skin.

She leans against me, and that’s all the permission I need to move my attention to her perfect tits.

“You have the most beautiful tits I’ve ever seen.” I whisper as my slippery fingers find the hard points of her nipples.

“That’s what I just said to her.” Chance can’t help but agree.

We’ve competed before for a girl’s attention, but we’ve never had a girl between us like this. The only time we did something even remotely comparable was when we both danced with Zara at the bonfire party.

I watch with complete fascination, and a touch of jealousy, as Chance takes her lips in a searing kiss.

My jealousy is short-lived though, because Zara leans further into me, rubbing her toned, round ass against the front of my shorts.

I was already hard, but the pressure of her ass against me turns me to stone.

“Oh. I really like that.” Zara breaks the kiss to moan when I pinch both her nipples between my fingers.

Hearing that spurs Chance into action. He traces the edge of her bikini bottoms, moving the wet fabric to the side.

Just the sight of Zara’s bare, smooth pussy makes me throb with need.

I can’t take my eyes off of the way Chance runs two fingers up and down her slit, parting her soft skin with each pass.

Zara tenses up when he finds her clit and she writhes in my arms.

He starts working her, rubbing slow circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves. I know Zara likes it by the way her breath hitches.

“Chance,” she begs. “Please don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

My best friend chuckles. “Shh, baby. I’m glad you like it, but you need to be quieter, or they’ll be able to hear you from the house.”

Zara lets out another loud gasp when Chance pinches her clit, rubbing his fingers together.

“Lev, some help?” he asks. “She’s really a little too loud.”

There’s only one way to muffle Zara’s moans of pleasure. I use one hand to coax her to turn her face so I can kiss her.

I’ve been dying to do this all day and the way her soft lips feel, her sweet taste, surpass every memory I had from two years ago.

Our tongues tangle in a hot caress, while Chance keeps playing with her clit.

I release her lips, running my open mouth down the column of her neck, enjoying the feeling of her in my arms.

Zara trembles despite the warm water cascading on us, and I know she’s close.

Fuck, I’m close too and I’m still in my shorts. Chance is in the same boat, judging by the tent in his own swimming trunks.

“Are you gonna come all over my fingers, baby?” Chance asks.

“I’m so close,” Zara moans, confirming my hunch. “So, so close. Please don’t stop.”

Hearing her beg does something to me. I can’t wait to see how she looks and sounds when she comes; but at the same time, I can’t bear for Chance to have this moment with her while I watch.

Possessive need courses through me, and I get in on the action. My fingers run over the seam of her pussy from behind. She’s soaking wet, and I’m sure it isn’t just because of the shower.

My fingers find her entrance and when I push, they sink inside her without finding any resistance. “Chance,” I grunt, close to losing my shit. “You should feel how fucking tight she is.”

I pump my fingers inside her a couple of times and that tips Zara over the edge.

She comes with a cry that’s surprisingly softer than her moans have been so far, as pleasure overcomes her.

I could watch her like this forever, tasting her skin while she trembles in my arms.

“Hey there,” I smile, when she comes down from her high, turning to look at me.

Her eyes are bright, her skin flushed, her lips slightly parted.

“You made me feel so good.” one of her hands runs down my chest, and one on Chance’s as she stands between us. “I want to do the same for you.”

The tips of her fingers tease the waistband of my shorts, and my cock twitches in anticipation.

“Can you take these off for me?” she asks both of us.

In a normal situation, if Chance wasn’t standing right on the other side of Zara, my shorts would have hit the shower’s floor faster than you can say “shorts.”

But Chance is part of the equation; and while I’ve seen him naked in passing in the locker room, it was never like this. Neither of us was hard and ready to blow his load at just the idea of Zara’s touch.

I sense the same sort of hesitation from him, and we make the mistake of looking at each other.

Maybe this isn’t the right time. Maybe we should go back into the house to make sure that Heather and Ares haven’t killed each other rather than making grilled cheese sandwiches.

What matters is that we made Zara feel good, right? She doesn’t need to return the favor until we’re one on one.

I’m about to tell her that it’s ok, expecting Chance to take a step back too.

But he won’t. I don’t even need him to say it, the same way I haven’t uttered a word since Zara asked us to get naked.

The way the corners of his mouth curl up in the slightest hint of a smile tells me that he’s waiting for me to walk away, but he’s planning to stay.

Fuck that.

I push my shorts down my hips, letting my cock spring free at the same time as Chance takes his off, too.

Maybe the fact that we’re staring each other down is fucked up in more ways than one, but I even forget that Chance is here when Zara’s fingers close around the base of my erection.

“God, you guys are so big.”

My balls tighten as she strokes me from base to tip. Sparks of heat travel from the base of my spine down the entire length of my shaft.

I’m about to come. I can feel the head of my cock expanding and I know I’m seconds away from blowing my load.

The thought that I’m about to embarrass myself if Chance lasts a lot longer crosses my mind, but I think I’m too far gone.

A groan coming from my best friend tells me that I was worrying for no reason.

“Zara,” I warn her. “I’m gonna?—”

The first rope of white cum shoots from me, landing on Zara’s stomach. The pleasure is so intense that it takes my breath away, but Chance comes at the same time, hitting the other side of our girl’s abs.

I focus my attention on her naked body, so sexy as she keeps touching us both until we have given her every last drop.

I pull her against my chest for a hot kiss, but it doesn’t last long because Chance has the same idea.

“That was really fun,” Zara smiles. “I don’t know about you guys, but now I’m absolutely starving.”

“Me too.” Chance agrees. “Let’s go find some food.”

He takes her hand, but she hesitates. “My bikini is super wet. First, I was worried about tracking sand all over the house, now I’m going to drip water everywhere.”

I collect her bathing suit from the floor. “There are some towels right outside, either in the changing hut or in the cabana. Chance, can you go get some, so Zara can walk into the house and get changed?”

My best friend grabs his swimming trunks from the floor, using the wet garment to cover his junk. “I won’t be a second.”

I take advantage of his brief absence to pull Zara into my arms for another kiss.

“You can come out, baby.” Chance calls out.

“Go,” I say, turning off the water. “I’ll wring the water out from both our bathing suits, so we don’t make a mess going inside. I’ll stick them in the dryer.”

She smiles. “Thanks, Lev.”

The shower doors swing closed as she gets out.

Chance is standing there with a towel for her, his own wrapped around his waist. He helps her cover herself, then starts using another towel to dry her arms and legs, and everywhere the first towel doesn’t cover.

An odd feeling expands in my chest at the way Chance is taking care of her. He’s a good guy, generous and kind. But Chance has always been the baby of the house and he’s always let his dad and his brothers—and me—take care of him.

Zara is good for him if this is the effect she has on him. The Chance I know, would have handed her the towel and walked inside to eat.

The bathing suits are no longer dripping with water, so I’m about to walk outside buck naked, hoping that Chance got a towel for me, too.

A voice stops me in my tracks.

“What are you doing?” Scott has just stepped off the deck and is looking at his son and stepdaughter with a surprised look on his face.

Chance sounds calm. “We just hosed off some sand. Zara said Kelly would be less than impressed if we tracked it in the house. Lev is in the shower now too.” He points to me and I wave, making the decision to put my shorts back on now that they aren’t dripping with water.

“What do you know,” Scott shakes his head, smiling at Zara. “You might succeed where I failed in making my sons more civilized. I’m sure Kelly will appreciate it, especially since the housekeeper has just been here while you guys had fun on the beach.”

ARES

“Don’t bother with making sandwiches, guys.” Kelly smiles. “You don’t want to ruin your appetite. Scott and I stopped at the store on our way home and picked up some steaks and shrimp to cook on the grill. We can have an early dinner and Kirk and Diane can join us, too. We left your father to coordinate security around the perimeter of the flood. We don’t want any of the houses affected to be broken into while everything gets cleaned up. I’m sure he’s going to be hungry when he’s done. Your mom was there too, organizing the volunteers who brought food and other supplies for the displaced families.”

Heather nods. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Hunter.”

“You can call me Kelly, sweetie,” Zara’s mom winks at our pain in the ass next-door neighbor. “I’m not going to be Mrs. Hunter until next Saturday, anyway.”

The patio door opens at that moment and Dad comes in with Zara, Chance, and Lev.

“Mrs. Hunter has a very nice ring to it,” Dad pulls his fiancée into a hug, kissing Kelly’s temple. The PDA isn’t anything scandalous by any means, but I don’t miss the way his hand lingers on her hip and the way the future newlyweds are looking at each other.

I’m happy for Dad. My mom died over a decade ago, when my brothers and I were still quite young. In all those years, I don’t recall Dad having any relationships; or if he did, it was never anyone meaningful enough to be introduced to us. The point is that he devoted his life to care for his sick wife first, and to raise his kids by himself after she passed. I think he deserves some happiness that isn’t related to us and our accomplishments.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Heather beams. “I’m going to go home to get ready for dinner. My hair is a total mess.” She plays with the ends of her blonde ponytail.

“You don’t need to worry about dressing up, Heather.” Dad reassures her. “It’s just going to be a really informal meal between long-time friends. We’ll sit outside on the deck and enjoy the rest of our Sunday.”

His words don’t deter Heather. I swear to God, I’ve never met anyone more stubborn.

“I still need to do something about my hair. The salt in the air makes it so dry that if I didn’t use a moisturizing conditioner mask, it would look like straw. Zara,” she adds. “Why don’t you come with me? We could get ready together. I have a new lipstick that will look perfect with your skin tone.”

I turn to look at Zara.

She’s stunning with her dark hair beginning to dry in natural waves; her green eyes are bright and her creamy skin is just a little flushed from being in the sun all afternoon.

In my opinion, women can do what they want with their looks. I’m not trying to sound like a patronizing asshole. What I mean is that what’s attractive is how comfortable someone is in their own skin; whether they like to be always dolled up, or they go for a fresh-faced, more natural look. I’ve seen Heather and Zara in both versions and they’re pretty regardless of what they’re wearing and how much makeup they have on.

I think the difference between them is that Zara feels comfortable either way, while Heather is a little high maintenance about her own looks. I’ve spent hours waiting for her to get ready when she was going out with Atlas.

“That sounds fun, Heather, but do you mind taking a rain check on that? Last night I didn’t get the chance to unpack any of my stuff. Today I woke up late and all I’ve done was brunch and the beach. I really need to at least sort out my suitcase, unless Mom and Scott need help with dinner.”

“No Zara, go ahead,” Dad smiles. “All I have to do is to make a quick marinade for the proteins. And I see three young, strapping men who could help with lighting the grill and making sides. You girls go do what you need to do. Dinner should be in a couple of hours.”

Heather pouts, in a way that I’m pretty sure she thinks is cute. I guess it worked with my brother, but not on me. Kelly and Dad’s arrival just might have saved her from getting choked. She was insisting about putting mayo on my grilled cheese, refusing to hear that I despise the stuff.

“Ok. See you all later, guys.”

“Ares, would you mind getting a few extra outdoor chairs from the garage?” Dad asks about ninety minutes later. “I don’t think we’ve had so many people over for dinner in a while.”

I nod. “No worries, I’m on it.”

Our five-car garage is a long building with a separate door for each unit, just outside of the main house. The light comes on as I open one of the wide doors and get inside the closest one to the house. We’ve never had five cars, but it might happen now that we need to add Kelly’s vehicle to our pool and maybe Zara’s.

She hasn’t mentioned a car, so I don’t know if she drives. Back when we rode bikes, Dad’s cars occupied two garages. Chance hadn’t gotten his license yet, and Atlas and I shared one car. That left two free garages. One for our bikes, and one for storage.

Now that I moved out, four garages are taken by Dad, Kelly, and Chance’s vehicles. Dad might have to rethink our storage situation if Zara has a car.

I find a stack of chairs against one of the shelves that hold a ton of stuff that gets used only occasionally, like Christmas decorations.

Dad hasn’t told me how many we need, but there are four chairs, and I guess it’s better to take them all.

“Fuck, these are heavy.” I grunt, grabbing the wrought iron frames. I’ll have to come back for the cushions.

On second thought, I might need to make a couple of trips anyway, as these weigh a ton.

Where are Chance and Lev, when there’s some need for extra muscle power? I bet those two are pretending to help in the kitchen while sneaking as much food as they can into their mouths.

My hunch is confirmed when I carry the first two chairs out to the deck. I could tell them to help me, but it’s ok. I stayed here rather than going to the gym today, so this counts as my lifting.

“One more trip,” I huff, grabbing a few of the padded cushions. These aren’t too heavy, but they’re bulky, and I can barely see where I’m going.

“Ouch.” My flip flop gets caught on the edge of a box and I stumble, hitting one of the shelves with my elbow. A box comes crashing down, narrowly missing my head.

Maybe Dad will need to tidy up in here regardless of Zara needing this space for a car.

I drop the cushions and lift the box with the intention of returning it to its spot on the shelf.

“Photos” is scribbled on the lid with a faded permanent marker, and curiosity has the best of me.

These are old photos from when Atlas and I were toddlers, and Chance was still a baby. My heart squeezes in my chest when I see two identical little kids on a young woman’s lap. Mom is holding baby Chance in her arms and is smiling at the camera.

Two of the people in that photo are gone, and that’s so fucking unfair. Both Mom and Atlas should be here today, if there was some justice in this world.

They will never be completely gone as long as you remember them . My therapist insists that I shouldn’t suppress painful memories, but not thinking about those losses—especially my brother’s—has been the only way I’ve been able to keep going.

Maybe though, I could ask Dad if he minds if I take a couple of these photos to hide at my apartment. One day, I might feel ready to put them on display.

Mom was gorgeous. I can see why Dad fell for her. And I have to say that my old man has a type.

Kelly is blonde and has green eyes like Mom; they also have the same petite body type.

We all inherited our blond hair from our parents. But while Chance is Dad’s carbon copy with his same blue eyes, Atlas and I have gray eyes with blue flecks in them.

Zara, on the other hand, has her mom’s eye color and body type, but she has her father’s dark hair.

As if summoned by my thoughts, she’s right there, by the door, when I turn around after putting the box back on its shelf.

She stops on the threshold, her eyes wide, like a deer in front of headlights. Zara is holding a black duffel bag with both hands.

“Uhm.” her eyes dart around the garage, settling on a spot behind me. “Dinner is almost ready. I…”

Irritation expands in my chest. I don’t even know why. No, scratch that. I know exactly why. Over the past two years, I’ve thought about Zara on more than one occasion. That almost kiss has been plaguing my mind more often than I care to admit. Conflicting emotions have always tinged that memory. A part of me knows that walking away was the right thing. But another part of me has always regretted not giving in to my desire to find out if her lips are as soft as they look; if her kiss would be as wild and passionate as the rest of her.

A familiar frustration turns my expression into a dark scowl. Before seeing her again, the frustration was caused by the fact that thinking about her was a waste of time; the past cannot be changed.

Right now, it’s for an entirely different reason. Zara is back in my life, and she’s here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. I don’t know what the fuck I expected when I saw her again.

We barely know each other, so I didn’t expect an emotional reunion, or for her to throw herself into my arms. Fuck, if she’d done that, it would’ve been weird. But I expected more than just a few furtive glances in my direction. She treats Chance and Lev as if they were her long lost best friends. I can count the words she said to me on one hand.

Being mad at her is unfair. I know that much. Chance and Lev have been all over her all day. I haven’t even tried to talk to her, so I can’t expect anything other than the uncomfortable silence that’s becoming almost a tangible presence between us.

“I’m almost done here too,” I finally utter. “All I have left to carry is those cushions over there. Can I help you with that?” I nod toward her bag.

“No, I just…”

Why is she so nervous around me?

“What’s in there?” I point at the bag and… jeez. I know I’ve been glaring at her. And my tone? Fuck, I’ve spoken more nicely to people I stopped for traffic violations.

She’s holding onto the bag’s handles with white-knuckle force.

I school my expression in the hope to look less intimidating. “Zara, can I help you?”

She shakes her head. “No, I was just—I was hoping to find a place for this bag where my mom wouldn’t find it.”

I open my mouth to repeat my earlier question about the bag’s contents, but she explains.

“It’s some stuff my dad gave me and if Mom finds it, she’s going to either donate it or burn it. She hates my dad, and she purged the house of anything that could remind her of him when we moved. Over the years, she always looked for excuses to throw away any presents or anything he gave me, so I started hiding them from her. I would have put this in the closet in my room, but she filled it with clothes even before I arrived. I don’t think it would be safe in there.”

I understand her predicament, at least in part. Her father isn’t dead, but our family had a similar problem with Mom and, more recently, with Atlas.

The thought hits me that from now on, when I think about “family,” that should include Zara and Kelly.

“You can leave it here,” I offer. “Anyone rarely comes here, unless it’s for spare chairs or Christmas decorations.”

She takes a couple of steps into the garage, stopping a couple of steps away from me.

I close the rest of the distance between us, and grab onto the bag’s handles.

Our knuckles brush against each other and I must have pulled on those handles, because Zara comes crashing down against my chest.

I let go of the bag to grab her biceps to steady her.

Fuck, she’s even more gorgeous than I remembered her.

My hand moves of its own accord. “You have a fair complexion,” I say, tracing her high cheekbone with the pad of my thumb. “You caught some sun today; you should wear sunscreen, or you’ll burn.”

Her throat works as she swallows, and my hand follows the movement, stopping at her pulse point. I can feel the thunderous pace of her heartbeat under my fingers.

“You’re right, I should. If I get sunburn before the wedding, Mom isn’t going to be happy.”

“We should probably get going if dinner is ready,” I say.

She nods, but neither of us moves.

We’re close enough that our chests are touching, and my eyes slip away from hers and down to her lips.

The air in the garage crackles with electricity, and I can’t stop wondering something. If I kissed her now, would she kiss me back?

There are dozens of reasons why this is a stupid idea. Two years ago, she was nothing more than a kid and I felt responsible for her after the way her ex had treated her.

Now that she’s all grown up, I’m the one who’s vulnerable. I’ve been broken since that stupid race. So broken that I have nothing to give to anyone, including my family.

“You can put your bag here, next to our old family photos. No one ever looks there.” I say, but we’re both rooted to our spots.

If I kissed her now, would she even expect it to turn into something?

I guess I’ll never know the answer, because Dad’s voice causes me to jump out of my own skin.

“Ah, here you two are. The Pullins are here and dinner is ready. We can’t sit down without those cushions.”

Dad’s gaze lands on the place my fingers are touching Zara’s neck.

I let go, grabbing her bag instead. “Yeah sorry, Dad. Zara stumbled while was looking for a spot to store some old stuff of hers. I was making sure she’s ok.”

He comes closer, his voice laced with concern. “Zara, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Scott. Sorry, these days I’m such a klutz.”

Dad smiles. “You must be getting that from your mom. But don’t tell her, or I’ll be in big trouble. Come on, let’s bring these cushions over before Chance and Lev go against my express orders and eat everything on the table.”