I stepped into his harbor. Because even though I was leaving for another country in the morning, Weston Abernathy would always be pulling me into safe waters.
Weston
I beat her in bowling. I lost my mind doing it. It was official—I was attracted to Crosby, and it could mean nothing but trouble. Asa would kill me. The Dashens would kill and disown me, but not before I’d go to jail for punching every single punk who dared to look at her.
The girls were drinking and slap-happy, but I wasn’t going to snitch. Asa would put the kibosh on that game as soon as he realized what they were up to. Every year, Crosby took my breath away more—a secret I figured I’d take the grave because I wouldn’t risk losing my friendship with Asa. Yet I was screwed any way you sliced it because my heart wouldn’t stand by and watch her date inept high-school boys. If I caught anyone coming on to her, I’d go nuts, and my secret would be out. Her year abroad had me supremely fucked. Forget about Italy, I would be an ocean away and unable to watch her, make sure she was safe. Without any parents around or Asa and me to intervene, she’d be free to date, and the idea made me want to break windows with my fist. Irrational anger made me slip, two turns went into the gutter, and Crosby was victory dancing already even though her score was lower.
“Thought you were gonna put me in my place, West. School me with your skills.”
“You’re lucky there are parents here, or I’d have to show you who’s in charge.”
Her whiskey-colored eyes darted to mine, and I could see the beginnings of a blush creeping up her cheeks. She was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen; natural phenomena be damned. This girl in front of me outdid the sunset.
“What would you show me?” Her voice quivered as she asked me, and it made me think Crosby felt the same charge of whatever it was that was happening between us.
“I’d throw you over my shoulder and take your ass home. I saw you dipping into that punch, Crosby, and you’re only sixteen.”
“Then what?” She licked her full lips, and my cock inadvertently jumped. I couldn’t peel my eyes away from her mouth.
“I’d make you mine so you’d forget going to Italy.”
Her eyes widened, and I could imagine the quickening flutter of her heartbeat as it mirrored my own.
“You don’t own me, Weston. You’ve got absolutely no claim on me.”
I stepped forward and grabbed Crosby’s chin between my thumb and forefinger.
“How about we change that?” I croaked out. I didn’t even know what I was asking. She was still a kid, and I was an adult. I should have been taking advantage of all the women who threw themselves at me away at school. The reason I didn’t was standing right in front of me—her strawberry-blonde hair trailing over her shoulders, her stance wide and defensive, ready to argue with me. I had to mentally scold myself and force my steps away from her. Once that line had been crossed, there would be no turning back from it for me.
Crosby did crazy shit to both my mind and body. She scrambled my brain and wound me up so tight, even a round of jerking off wouldn’t undo the knot that being near her tied in my gut.
“Hey, yo, Dashen!” some stupid kid yelled as he made his way out onto the floor and stepped around high schoolers to get to Crosby.
“Hi, Dylan. What’s up?” Crosby asked. She held her bowling ball with two hands and smiled openly at the guy. My insides boiled with jealousy.
“Heard you’re leaving us for a whole year. Came over to call dibs on homecoming senior year.”
“Really? That’s more than a year away. I don’t know if I should make commitments that far off in the future.”
I wanted to wring his little neck—throw the kid instead of the ball and watch him roll down into the gutter.
“Back off, kid. She said no.” Not technically, but I could tell she was being kind, trying to let him down easily.
“Weston, do you mind? You’re not part of this conversation.”
“That your brother?” The kid gave me a look full of contempt and scrutiny. I balled my fists, and I cracked the knuckles of one hand with my thumb. Let him make the first move—let him come at me, and I’d gladly teach him how to keep his hands off Crosby.
He slid his arm around her waist, and that was it. Whatever calm and semblance of normalcy I’d held on to imploded. I ripped his arm away and bent it backward for good measure. I scooped Crosby up in my arms and tossed her over one shoulder. She beat her fists weakly on my back, but I could tell from her breathing that she was holding back a laugh. It wasn’t funny—this kind of shit turned me into a wolf—I’d mate for life, I’d kill any male that came sniffing around. She was mine. Crosby was the other half of me.