So Trashy (Bad Boy Next Door Book 2)(2)

His grin grows into a full-blown smile, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, a light coming into them as though he welcomes the challenge.

I slip inside, white-knuckling the handle as I shut the door in his face. I wilt against the doorframe. It’s best for him not to know how he affects me. I won’t give him that power again. The last time I did, he used it to twist me into an emotional pretzel.

“What’s wrong, Baby Girl?” Aunt Delores’s dry voice cracks behind me.

Closing my eyes, I pull up my shoulders and wipe the disgust from my face.

“Morning. Sorry if I woke you.”

She shakes her head, waving me off. “No. I was lying there putting off getting up to pee.”

Aunt Delores pours a cup of coffee while I wash up. She moves to the window that overlooks the divide between her property and the Buckners’, taking a long sip from her mug.

“Looks like Selma and Frank have company.”

I shrug, chest still tight. “Buck’s home.”

She tugs at the back of her turban. “Oh, that’s right. Selma was saying something about that yesterday.”

“Thanks for the warning. Why didn’t you tell me?”

A little glint comes into her eye as her fingers fiddle with her mother’s pendant. “Well, you’d have scooted right back to California to avoid him, and I don’t want you to leave. I’ve missed my girl.”

The veins on the backs of her hands, along with her papery, wrinkled skin, remind me she’s seventy-four years old. My heart constricts as I think of the way time slips by, quietly stealing the moments we have with those we love.

After Uncle Manny’s unexpected death last February, the finite length of time I have left with Aunt Delores hit me like a wrecking ball. She’s the last of the people who truly love me. When she’s gone, I’ll be alone.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “I’m not leaving. I came to help. And that’s what I’m going to do, regardless of whether that jackass is next door or partying it up in his Hollywood mansion.”

She pats my cheek, a sparkle in her eye. “There you go, Darlin’. That Buck’s a handful for another day.”

A handful. Or two.

Or five.





TWO





The window draws me to it. Even though I shouldn’t, I want to catch another glimpse of Buck.

I should keep busy, especially if I want to keep my mind off him. Even though Buck’s lived just hours up the road from me for the past few years, right now he’s minutes away and only a few yards lay between us.

Well, that’s not strictly true. Way more than physical distance separates us. Time. Emotional baggage. Water under the bridge that rose up and washed the fucking road away.

There was a time when Buck was my hero, always saving me from the shitty hand life dealt me.

Momma stumbled into the living room, knocking into the half wall that divided the kitchen from the den. I curled into the corner of the couch, pulling a little pillow in front of me, hoping she wouldn’t notice I was there.

When she bumped into the folding table, the small television sitting on it teetered. The picture flickered and went out as the thing crashed to the floor.

Momma fell and grabbed her foot, screaming. I covered my ears and squeezed my eyes shut.

Bony fingers closed over my shin and dug into my muscle. “What’s wrong with you? Get help!”

I tried to pull out of her grasp, but her hold tightened. She drew back, smacking my thigh. Pain shot through my leg. I squealed and squirmed as she hit me again and again, wherever she could land a blow. My calf. My knee. My hip.

“I’ll get someone. Let go,” I begged as she pulled me off the sofa, my butt thumping hard onto the floor.

“What good are you? You can’t even help someone when they’re hurt?”

I kicked and twisted until I escaped her hold. Scrambling to my feet, I retreated down the darkened hallway to the back door. It opened just as my foot landed on the square of peeling linoleum that served as the back entry to our trailer.

A hand reached through the opening, took my arm, and yanked me outside. I let out a high-pitched squeak, and a warm hand covered my mouth.

“Shush. C’mon.” Buck whispered into my ear.

Rain pattered onto the overgrown grass, soaking my thread bare t-shirt, as he gently pushed me down the back steps. He silently closed the door and put his finger to his lips.

He took my hand and pulled me toward his grandparents’ house. I looked over my shoulder, expecting Momma to burst out the door to call me back.

“How’d you know to come save me?” I asked, wide-eyed.

He shrugged. “I was on Nan’s front porch. I could hear you two all the way from over there.”