Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1) Read online

  The sad truth is, there is no hope for any kind of future with Trevor. I need to lock the vault on that, and throw away the key. The problem is, every time I am around him, I seem to forget my head. My body responds in ways that I don't know how to control. I am just drawn to him. It is so powerful that no matter how hard I try to fight it, he gets in there, tugging at my heart. Now, I know he feels it, too. What am I supposed to do with that?

  And then there is of course, the love of my life, my Sam, my happily ever after. Through all my silly teenage crushes, he is the only one I've ever seen myself with in the end. He is practically part of our family. Even though I know him almost as well as I know my own brother, he surprises me. He always leaves me panting breathlessly when we are together. Our lips seem to be made for one another. He is my boyfriend, and I don't have to fight to get him. Being with him won't hurt the people I love, either. I'm pretty sure Kyle will have to get used to the idea, when we tell him, but I'm sure he'll come around.

  I quickly throw on an old white t-shirt with my faded denim skirt. The fabric is sticking to my damp, lotion-lathered skin, but I don't really care. I slip on my navy and white striped flip-flops, and assess my reflection in my full-length mirror. It's by no means, one of my Avery-approved outfits, but it is comfortable, easy, and very much a me kind of look.

  I end up throwing on my mint-green stone necklace, just to give it a little pop. I smile a little, because the necklace sort of pulls it all together, and I know Avery would be so proud of me. My hair is still wet, curly, and wild, but it will have to do. I brush bronzing powder across my cheeks swiftly, and swipe my bubble gum flavored lip-gloss across my lips. After a couple of sprays of my perfume, I decide that I'm ready. I just want to get down there, and get this over with.

  Kyle is busy talking on the phone in his room with his door shut, when I pass by. My parents must be at work, which leaves Sam and me alone, downstairs. He is resting on the love seat, staring absently at the television, which is displaying what appears to be some sort of golf tournament.

  His white, button-down shirt is rumpled, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his golden-brown, toned forearms. I can see a light grey t-shirt peeking out, just above the top of his crinkled, open collar. He is wearing an equally wrinkled pair of long, slate-blue cargo shorts. His long, muscular legs are casually crossed, and propped up on the couch.

  He looks sexy as always, but there is just something about a guy wearing a white shirt that just completely wrecks me. Part of me wonders if Sam somehow knows this. He certainly picked a good day to be wearing white. My stomach is already in over-drive with nerves, but now I can feel the heat starting to prickle across my cheeks.

  I try to gently push his feet to the side, so I can sit next to him. He quickly uncrosses his legs, sits up, and grabs the remote to turn the volume down. "Hey," he says tentatively.

  "Hey. I don't want to be mad at you, Sam," I say, while shaking my head. I lean my cheek against his shoulder, and start playing with the cotton fabric on his shirtsleeve, as the rest of my tense body relaxes against him. He reaches his arm up, but then pulls it back, as if he is a little unsure whether or not he should put his arm around me. "I forgive you," I say quietly.

  He sighs, as if he was holding his breath. "You have no idea how good it is to hear you say those three words, Laila." He laces his fingers with mine, and kisses the top of my head. And just like that, I once again feel safe and at home with him. He lifts his arm up, and wraps it around my waist to scoot me closer to him. He is holding me in an almost protective way. I nuzzle my face in close to his chest. We stay like this without saying anything for a while.

  He finally breaks the silence when he says, "Go for a walk?" knowing that Kyle could be down here any second now. I finally allow myself to look up into his eyes. The moment I do, they light up. A huge grin stretches across his face, causing that familiar warmth to spread throughout my body. I didn't realize just how much I've missed that smile until now.

  He places his hand lightly against the small of my back, leading me to the door. Once we round the corner, Sam wraps his hand around mine, and lightly squeezes, as if to remind himself that I am here. We don't say much to each other, as we stroll around the block.

  We don't want to return to the house, knowing that we'd once again have to hide our relationship. More than anything, I just want to feel his soft, warm lips against mine. I want his kiss to melt away everything else that has been causing so much chaos in my head lately.

  When we round the corner to our court, I tell Sam to go ahead inside. I’m going to walk a little longer. That way, Kyle will not see us entering the house together. He stops two houses down from ours, and wraps his arms around me again, to give me a long hug. I have my face pressed up against his chest, and can hear the loud hammering of his heart. I inhale his clean, woodsy scent, and smile.

  His chin rests on the top of my head, while our embrace lingers. He gently cups my cheeks on both sides, forcing me to look up at him. "I really missed you, Lis." He lowers his head to me, and gently brushes his lips against mine.

  As I had suspected, his lips are doing an incredible job of erasing the swarming tension that has been hijacking my body since yesterday. Once my body feels liquid, I pull away, and urge him on. I'm still a little worried that Kyle could see us, if he were to look out the window. He squeezes me in a tight hug one more time, and kisses my neck while letting out a low, sexy growl.

  The second he peels his body away from mine, I feel an ache so deep inside of me that I almost whimper out loud. It’s as if my legs are made of heavy cast iron. I am having trouble moving them from where we stood. For a few minutes, I stand there, at the edge of our neighbor's driveway, staring off down the road at nothing in particular, while thinking about this whole week.

  Just ten minutes alone with Sam, is all it takes for me to center myself. I no longer feel the pull of Trevor, and my conflicting emotions about the bomb he dropped on me last night. I still feel a little bad about how hurtful my outright rejection must have been for him, but I know he will be fine. In time, he will no doubt, find an amazing girl, someone who will return those same feelings, a girl who is allowed to feel that way about him. Now that I have made my intentions very clear, perhaps he will even reconsider dating Avery. After all, he said himself that his feelings for me, were kind of getting in the way.

  When I am finally able to shuffle my feet enough to start moving again, I round the corner, and continue my walk. It's a slightly cooler day, but still in the low nineties. Summers in Brookville can be brutal, but I wouldn't want it any other way. I enjoy experiencing the extremes of all four seasons, which is what we usually get. I think the change is what makes you appreciate each season. Even though summer is my favorite, I wonder if I'd love it as much as I do, if it were like this year round.

  An insistent howling directs my attention across the street. A large, honey-colored, doughy-eyed Golden Retriever is peering at me through the white picket fence. I jog across the street, so I can pay him a quick visit.

  "Hey there, Puddles. How's it going? Are you all alone today in this heat, buddy?" He is panting heavily, and is moving toward me in a slow, lethargic way. He pulls back his black gums, as if he is trying to smile at me. His long, pink tongue dangles limply over the side of his mouth. I stroke the top of his soft, warm head, right between his ears. His eyes squint lazily, the same way you do when you're getting a massage.

  It really irks me to see animals left out all day in this kind of heat. I wonder how their owners would feel about spending an entire day outside, on a day like this, while wearing a heavy, fur-laden gorilla suit. It's just so cruel. I peek over the fence around the yard, to see if there is a hose lying around anywhere. I don't see anything, but I do spot a blue, plastic sand bucket turned over on its side, near the patio.

  After carefully surveying the area to be sure nobody sees me, I hop over the fence. Puddles can barely muster up enough energy to jump up onto my
legs. His body is so big that it nearly topples me over. I scoop up the bucket, and turn the knob on the metal hose faucet, which is on the side of the house. A burst of hot water gushes out, nearly burning my hands. Once the temperature turns warm, I fill up the bucket. Waiting for the water to turn cold would be a lost cause in this heat.

  When I dump the bucket over his head, his tail starts wagging happily. Puddles even nuzzles his wet snout against the empty bucket, as if to say, "More please." I repeat the process again and again, until his entire body is sopping wet, and his panting slows down.

  I walk with him over to the patio, to make sure he has water. Sure enough, his water bowl is empty, next to an over-flowing bowl of dog food. Shaking my head with disgust, I fill up his bowl along with the little blue bucket, and set them next to each other in the shade, under the overhang.

  Puddles saunters over to a shaded area on the patio, and lies down in a big ball, leaving a wet ring all around him. I contemplate dog napping him, but quickly dismiss the idea when I remember how big and scary his owner is. It's not like I could easily hide Puddles anyway. He is more than half my size. Even if I were to successfully get him out of here without anyone noticing, where would I go with him? My mother has a serious allergy to dogs, cats, or really any kind of pet that has fur.

  I glance over at him one more time to be sure he is okay. His breathing has slowed, and it appears that he may have even fallen asleep. I unlatch the gate to let myself out the proper way, not wanting to add any more dirt or scratches to my already covered legs and arms. Between that and the fact that I now smell like a perfect mix of wet dog and sweat, I will need another shower when I get home.

  When I open the back door, Kyle is perched on one of the barstools in the kitchen. He notices all of the dirt and scratches on my body, and shakes his head. "What happened to you?" Kyle shoots me a snarky glare, as I flip my thongs off my feet, and make my way over to the kitchen sink to clean up.

  "Out saving another animal, lil sis?" Sam asks casually, as he rounds the corner, and plops down next to Kyle. The corners of his lips turn up into a flirty smile, which of course makes me smile. I douse my hands and arms with the new foamy, strawberry-scented Bath and Body Works soap that Mom bought.

  "Poor Puddles. Can you believe those jerks would leave their dog outside all day in this kind of heat? The big guy has a seriously thick coat of long hair. It's just cruel. They shouldn't be allowed to own pets. It's so aggravating," I complain, while lathering up the sweet scented soap into big white, foamy, clouds.

  "We should steal their dog," Kyle suggests.

  I laugh, because Kyle has the same soft spot for animals that I have. We've always wanted to have our own dog or cat, but if Mom is even in the same room with one, her eyes swell up to be the size of golf balls, and nine times out of ten, a really bad rash will break out all over her body. My dad had to begrudgingly give up his own dog, Murray, when they got married. He wasn't upset with her, though. After all, it's not her fault she is allergic. It was really hard for him, though. He loved that dog like it was his own child. He still tells us old stories about Murray, and all the trouble he used to get into.

  "I thought about that, but then I didn't have any idea where to take him to live," I reply.

  "Too bad my family doesn't still live here. My mother is a sucker for rescues," Sam adds.

  "Yeah, but what about a stolen dog? I somehow doubt she would be keen on the idea of being a safe house for an illegally obtained dog," I point out.

  "It would be a rescue from an abusive owner," he argues. After a moment, he sighs. "You’re probably right, though. She is not really a rule breaker."

  "You mean law breaker," I correct him, with a teasing smile on my face. Sam shrugs, as if stealing Puddles would be worth it.

  "We should bring him back to the frat house, Kyle. He could be our new mascot," Sam suggests with a half smile on his face.

  "Yeah, but then we'd be the abusive owners, letting a bunch of drunken asses torment him all day. They'd probably fill his water bowl up with beer. I don't think so. Not a good idea," Kyle says, while shaking his head vehemently. I can see a smile forming on his face as he says it.

  "Let me know if you guys think of a good home for him. I'd be happy to launch my career as a criminal, if it means I get to save Puddles," I offer, while drying my hands. Sam has such a ridiculous grin on his face, it makes me want to go over there, and kiss it right off. Instead, I throw the towel down on the counter, and head on upstairs to jump in the shower.

  Chapter Nineteen: Man, Does He Look Good in White

  The day seems to drag on, primarily because the three of us are all here in the house, coexisting as best as we can. Actually, Kyle is doing just fine. It's Sam and me who are having trouble being together, without actually being together. I have been desperately searching for ways to preoccupy myself.

  After another long shower, I decide to take the time and effort to blow out my hair and flat iron it. This is always a big process, given just how bull-headed my curls can be. When my hair is done, I apply a fresh coat of a mango-colored nail polish on my nails. I also reorganize my closet, dresser, and desk. I put fresh sheets on my bed, and take all my laundry downstairs. I even dust and vacuum my room. My mom probably would be suspicious if she were home to witness this unusual behavior. Normally, she has to nag me over and over just to get me to make my bed.

  There doesn't seem to be anything left to do. I glance at my clock on the wall above my desk. It's still only quarter till two in the afternoon. I sigh. Boredom is not something I handle very well. I tend to eat, which is stupid and pointless if you aren't actually hungry.

  When I wander into the kitchen, I notice Sam and Kyle playing water volleyball in the pool. I could easily slip on my swimsuit and join them, but I don't want to be tempted. Seeing Sam's bare chest right now is hard enough, and we have about thirty feet between us. I grab a yogurt out of the refrigerator and peel the foil off the top.

  I'm not sure what else I can do. Avery is helping her mother today with another charity event. She promised to call me when she’s done, but that won't be until later this evening. I could call Allie or Kylie, but for some reason, I'm not in the mood to hear about yesterday's kegger at Bombay Waters. I don't have the best memories of that place. It's this campsite where they have a creek with huge boulders, waterfalls, and all of these small swimming holes. Everyone likes to hang out there when it's hot, because you can climb the rocks and jump into the water. The last time I went there with Avery, I fell on one of the rocks, and nearly broke my ankle.

  I decide to sift through some new Instagram alerts while I eat my yogurt. After glancing out the window again, I decide to take my snack upstairs, where I don't have to see my hot boyfriend in nothing but swim trunks. Of course, Allie has posted a bunch of new pictures from the bonfire last night. Everyone is blissfully posing with glassy eyes while clutching red plastic cups. Usually, the parties are really big when they bring in a keg.

  I flip through the images quickly, until I find one of Devon with another girl. Becky Swenson, really? She is only about the sluttiest girl in our school. I guess my instincts were right, and he really is only interested in one thing. Well, he shouldn't have to wait long with her. I'm so relieved that he has moved on, and that I didn't get myself involved with him in the first place.

  Avery posted a new picture of her, Trevor, and myself. It was after our popcorn fight last night. I smile, thinking about how much fun that was. I fight back the urge to call Trevor and see how he is doing. I really need to keep my distance right now, at least while he sorts out his feelings. I want us to be friends, but I know that won't be possible until after he moves on. I am surprised to see that Trevor has already commented on the photo.

  Best popcorn fight ever! Ok, it may have been the only popcorn fight I've ever had, but it seriously rocked!

  There were comments from other guys, too.

  Trevor, you the man! So jealous . . .

  I would l
ove to be in a popcorn fight with those two any day. And no, Trevor, I am not talking about you!

  Yo! Hot popcorn, hot chicks, on a hot night. What's not to love? Sounds like you had some hot fun, dawg!

  I am flattered to be lumped in with all of the obnoxious comments that these guys posted, but I am pretty sure they were mostly directed at Avery. She usually gets these kinds of responses from guys, which is exactly why she doesn't date high school boys. That is until now. I can't imagine Trevor ever posting a comment like that.

  I am just about to turn my iPad off, when an IM pops up on my screen. My heart sinks when I see Trevor’s name flashing.

  TMaddox16: Hey, saw you online. Just wanted to be sure you and I are ok after everything last night?

  LaysP2016: Hey. Yes. No worries; it's all-good. Friends, right?

  TMaddox16: Yeah, something like that . . .

  LaysP2016: What is that supposed to mean?

  I can feel my face starting to heat up. Trevor has this way of getting me all worked up, just when I think everything is going to be okay between us. It's maddening how easily he pushes my buttons.

  TMaddox16: I mean EXACTLY what I said.

  LaysP2016: We don't have to be friends, you know . . . .

  TMaddox16: Trust me. I KNOW!!!

  Then why are you making sure we’re okay? He pisses me off so much that I don't even want to respond. Is he trying to get a rise out of me?

  LaysP2016: Ok, so why are you checking on me, if you don't want to be friends?

  I sit there, staring at the blinking curser, waiting for him to respond. Finally, after about five minutes and no response, his IM light flicks off. What an ass. He just quits talking to me because he doesn't like what I have to say, really?