A Son of Carver (Carver High #2) (12 page)

BOOK: A Son of Carver (Carver High #2)
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I feel dizzy and confused, nervous and excited. Thank god Nick is right here with his arm around me because I might pass out.

Nash is in his car at the starting line, his engine roaring. I try to pretend like he’s not even in there. I try to focus my energy on the bald guy whose ass I want to be kicked.

The lights flashes, the cars take off with a loud ruckus, the other guy’s car starts fishtailing, getting way too close to Nash’s narrow lane. I’m holding my breath. Nick is holding onto my shoulder like a vice grip, Nate’s next to me yelling, “Sloppy mother fucker!” Oh god, I don’t think this is good.

I close my eyes and when I open them, bald guy’s got his car straightened out and Nash’s taillights have passed him completely. I let out a long breath of relief. And then I start going ape shit cheering for Nash. I’m jumping up and down, screaming my head off – it’s clear Nash has this in the bag. And I’m not the only one, all the guys around me are doing the same thing.

The tail lights are out of site now and the guys around me start slapping hands, celebrating. The official call comes back – Nash by three car lengths – and I’m in Nick’s arms and he’s swinging me around. I’m part of the crew at the moment so I get a hug from Nate and several slaps on the back. I have to remember to wear padding next time I come – because
yes
I’m coming back every damn week, or how ever often they have these things. This was the biggest rush I’ve ever felt.

Nash and his pathetic competitor come driving back down the road and Nick grabs my elbow and starts jogging me forward. When Nash gets out of his car, Nick, Nate and I are all there to hug him. He picks me up again and Nick takes over the driver’s seat. “Oh my god that was so incredibly awesome, holy crap!”

“Yeah? You liked it?”

“Liked it? Oh my god I loved it. Especially now that you’re done. And you’re safe. And you won!”

He slaps my ass, which I’ll address once the celebrating is done, sets me down, then tells me, “And I won a thousand dollars. That I gotta go collect.”

“Yes. Take that asshole’s money, you … super-fast… car driver, you.”

He shakes his head at me with a huge smile on his face, then goes to get his money. I’m standing by myself, grinning ear to ear like an idiot, when Summer comes up and gives me a tight squeeze. “So what’d you think?”

I hug her back and tell her, “It was absolutely awesome!”

“I thought so too.”

“Is it always this much fun?”

She shrugs her shoulder, “I don’t know. This is my first time too.”

“Oh, yeah… because of dance?” Most of the school is concerned, and blaming Nash, that Summer is no longer on the dance team. This town is so weird.

“Yeah,” she tells me with a tight smile. “I would usually be competing on Saturday’s.”

“Well I’m glad you’re not.”

Slowly, a smile covers her face. “Yeah, me too.”

Behind Summer I see Nash and his dad and brother heading our way. He smiles hugely when he sees who I’m talking to and I wonder why it was me with him tonight and not Summer. And then I remember why – the photos I never took.
Damn it.

Brandon stops him before he gets to us and I realize we are suddenly surrounded by our classmates, including Jolee who joins Brandon to congratulate Nash. I laugh out loud when he shoves her off.

Summer looks and snickers too. “I bet it drives her crazy.”

“Huh?” I ask her.

“Your cousin – I bet seeing how close you and Nash are becoming is driving her crazy.”

I shake my head. “Not that we’re becoming close, but we generally keep our friendship hidden from her. I’m sure she’s ready to murder me now just because I was supposed to be Nash’s personal photographer tonight.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” she says as Nash heads our way with Jolee still clamoring after him.

“Hey, you,” Nash says, picking Summer off the ground with his big bear hug. I make a mental note to not bring up his overt affection for me over the course of the night – I would sound completely stupid. It’s clearly a side effect of adrenaline and nerves and it would be ridiculous to assume it meant anything more when she’s the one who’s meant to be receiving it. He looks at me and I roll my eyes at myself. He pinches his eyebrows together and I shake my head, trying to communicate that I wasn’t rolling my eyes at him.

“You did good,” Summer tells him after she’s back on the ground.

“Of course I did,” he tells her with his cute, real, smile.

“So,” Jolee interrupts loudly, “You need a ride back to Carver?” she’s staring at me, but I don’t respond. Our moms send us out of the house together regularly despite our protests, but she’s never voluntarily offered to bring me anywhere with her. I look around like maybe there’s someone standing behind me. “I can ask Shelby if there’s room in the backseat. I’m guessing you want to go see your boyfriend.”

Oh, shit. Angel.
I completely forgot about his party. “Yeah, that would be great,” I say even though, honestly, I’d rather get back in the truck with Nash. But that’s not where I belong.

I feel the, now familiar, force of a slap on my back and Nick says, “Sorry girlie, she’s part of the crew tonight so she’s gotta ride back with us.”

My eyes immediately go to Nash. I’m guessing he would like to offer the spot on his lap to Summer. He looks damn irritated. “Really, Nick. I’m gonna head back with my cousin.”

“Nope,” Nick tells me. “We came together, we leave together. You kids get moving. Nash, we need to get the hell out of here.” And before I can protest further, he’s got me spun around and heading towards the truck which is back on the road, Nash’s car loaded onto the trailer.

“I really think Nash would have preferred me going with my cousin,” I mutter.

“Do we smell?” he asks, throwing me.

“What? No.”

“Well good, then there’s no reason you can’t tolerate us for a while longer.”  He drops me off at the open passenger door but I don’t climb in. I turn and watch Nash as he stalks towards us, hands stuffed in his pockets, his demeanor completely changed. “Sorry about him,” he mutters when he gets to me, he doesn’t pause though, just climbs up into the truck, reaches out and hoists me back onto his lap like the ragdoll I apparently am.

9

 

 

It’s annoying as hell how one stupid little move on Presley’s part can completely destroy my mood. Tonight was good. Actually, it was fucking great. I smoked John Boy without even trying and won a thousand dollars. But that wasn’t even the best part. The best part was Presley.

I liked having her by my side. There’re usually girls on me at the races but on the road, getting ready to climb in my car, is about the only time I don’t appreciate a female’s attention – it’s too damn distracting. Maybe, in the past I would have wanted Tatum there, but she never was. She always thought the whole thing was stupid and reckless and claimed she wasn’t interested in watching me die.

But Presley… she was so damn excited and cute. And she was worried about me. And having her in my arms helped my nerves. She let me hold her; didn’t even try to push me away once. In fact, she climbed right up on me at one point. And after she did that I wanted so badly to kiss those fat, red lips of hers. I almost did. And I think she might have let me.

When the race was done and I was driving back all I wanted was to have her back in my arms and to see the excitement on her face. And she didn’t disappoint. She was there with her arms wrapped around me, the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.

And all of that, all that fantastic shit, wasn’t even the best damn part of my night because I spent an hour and a half with her on my lap, wrapped up in my body, my hand tangled with hers. And I swear to god I’ve never experienced anything so fucking exciting. I’m not one to beat around the bush when it comes to women – I usually get to the point as quickly as possible- so that truck ride was a first for me.

Every small touch from her felt intensely satisfying and left me wanting so much more. But the
more
wasn’t my hands on her tits, her hands on my junk or even sex. It was more of her hair brushing across my neck, more of her body pressed up against mine, more of her fingers touching mine or her breath on my skin. It was a kind of intimacy I’ve never known. It felt secretive and a little wrong but, honest to god, nothing’s ever felt so damn right. It was like some weird sort of slow seduction that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

I was looking forward to the ride home- now that the race is over, my dad and brother are breaking down the entire night with some very colorful, loud language and the radio’s on, which would mean a little more privacy on this side of the cab. But the girl on my lap is not the one I brought here.

As soon as everyone from school was surrounding us I got her same predictable bullshit – her animated face announcing to everyone around us how much she despises me, her mouth making sure everyone there knew she’d rather not be riding back with me.

I swear to god, I’m never gonna learn.

She’s stiff, leaned against the door so as little of her is touching me as humanly possible. I’ve got one hand gripping onto the grab handle and the other one clamped onto my leg just to guarantee I don’t accidentally touch her and have to endure one of her seething glares.

She leans forward, pulls her phone out of her backpack and turns it on. It’s literally a foot from my face so I can’t help but read the texts from Angel:

How’s it going? Is it a redneck utopia?

Should I be worried that I haven’t heard from you? Hopefully you’re just on some road running the hell away from race night. If so, call me. I’ll come pick you up

Just talked to Summer… said you’re on your way back. Let me know if you need a ride here

She tilts her phone away from me, probably so I don’t see the insults her immature, pretentions boyfriend is throwing at me. He’s lucky I don’t have time to worry about his skinny, straight-laced ass. “I saw the texts, Presley. You’ve gotta be smart enough to know I don’t give a shit what he thinks about me,” I mutter, interrupting her rapid texting.

“He’s one of Tatum’s best friends. You can’t really blame him for not being your biggest fan.” She lets out a long breath, turning her phone off and shoving it back in her bag.

I ignore the Tatum comment. That crap will be haunting me forever and I try damn hard not to perpetuate any of it. “I’ll get you to your boy as soon as we’re back at my place.”

“I’m sure I can find a ride,” she mutters, turning her body and resting her shoulder against me. “Your gigantic bicep is getting in the way of my head.” She looks up at me with her big doe eyes and even though her lips are in a grumpy pout and she’s dating the biggest jackass ever, she melts me a little.

“I would move it but that would mean touching you and I’m not sure your boyfriend wants you being touched by a redneck.”

She reaches behind her, yanks my arm down, then tells me, “Why are you letting his stupid, ignorant texts get to you? You just said you don’t give a shit what he thinks.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” I tell her, wrapping my hand around her tiny waist and hiking her body up my thigh. I position her legs on me and hold onto her.

“Thank you. Jesus,” she mutters and I tell myself she enjoyed the ride here just as much as I did. Even though she would never, fucking ever, admit it.

She cuddles up to me, resting her head in the crook of my shoulder and folding her arms into herself. This is officially my new favorite thing. She feels so small and…
sweet
in my arms. Not the stressed out ball of energy she usually is.

If you would have told me yesterday, or hell, a minute ago, that she would be voluntarily snuggling up on me I don’t know that I would have believed you, but now it feels like she belongs here. Like her body was made to fit perfectly into mine.

I run my fingers through her soft hair and duck my head, inhaling her scent which is seriously intoxicating. I have a feeling I’m not gonna get this again, maybe ever, so I take it in while it’s mine.

She lets out a satisfied murmur and says, “Tonight was so exciting; the best night I’ve had since being here. But damn, coming down from that rush is exhausting.”

The words
best
and
night
make me extremely happy. I smile into her hair and tell her, “Close your eyes. I’ll wake you up when we’re back in Carver.”

“Ugh. Do we have to go back to Carver? It was so great feeling like I wasn’t even in Georgia tonight.”

“We’ll have to pick up my truck, but I mean, if you really don’t want to go back we can go anywhere you want. I’ll drive you.”

She laughs quietly into my chest and snuggles in further. “Don’t tease me, Nash.”

I laugh too. I don’t think I am teasing her. I think I would seriously take off with her if she would go with me.

Her breaths are already becoming deep and her body becomes heavy as it relaxes into mine. I wrap my arms all the way around her and hold her close. Two minutes later she’s out.

“Jesus, she sounds like a damn cat,” Nate says.

I duck my face into her hair and smile. She’s mewling and it does sound a little bit like she’s meowing. It’s fucking adorable.

I don’t move for the rest of the ride except to adjust my arms when she shifts in her sleep. By the time we get to Carver she’s a little ball of warmth on my lap. I’m tempted to ask my dad if he wouldn’t mind driving for a few more hours. I don’t want to wake her. I don’t want to move her. I don’t want her going to Angel.

My dad parks the truck and he and Nate get out. I hold her for a few more moments before rubbing my hand up and down her arm and telling her, “Hey, we’re home.”

She moans sleepily, then shifts and buries her face in my neck. I can feel her lips on my skin and her breasts pressed into me and it’s becoming damn difficult to keep my arousal at bay. “Can’t I just sleep here for the night,” she whispers, probably still half asleep and unaware that she’s asking to spend the night on me.

“Come on,” I tell her, opening the door. Now that we’re back in reality it’s not a good idea for me to be playing pretend with her, acting like she belongs on my lap. “I’ll bring you inside.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, her lips still dangerously close to me, and I step out of the truck, holding her.  I knew she was tiny, that the huge shirts that hang off her breasts like a mumu made her look about four times bigger than she actually is, but damn, she weighs nothing. I like it. Yes, I’m a stupid, unevolved guy whose ego is fed by crap like this. Sue me. My last girlfriend, my only girlfriend, was five-ten.

By the time I get her inside and on the couch I’m still holding onto her like my life depends on it but she’s starting to rouse. She stretches then slides off my lap. “Oh my god, I slept hard. Sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind you sleeping on me, kitty cat.”

She scrunches up her face at me. “Eww, did you just call me kitty cat? Please don’t call me any gross sexist names.”

I laugh at her. “You sound like a cat when you sleep.”

“Oh,” she says. “Crap, that’s embarrassing.”

“It was cute. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

She leans against the couch and tucks her legs under herself. “Just give me a minute to wake up and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I know you want to get to Angel, but if you’re too tired, you know you can hang out here as long as you want to.”

She looks up at me, that look with the big innocent eyes that I’m starting to love, like she’s considering it. And then my dad walks through the back door.
Thanks, Nick.
The guy’s got great timing.

“What the hell are you two doing? Come on, I made coffee, get your asses up,” he reaches out a hand to Presley, who’s sitting up now. She takes it and he pulls her up. She looks at me like a lost puppy who needs rescuing.

“I was just about to bring Presley home,” I tell him, standing my own ass up.

“You got a curfew?” he asks her.

“No. I mean, well yeah, but it’s not for a few hours.”

“I’m not actually brining her home, she needs to get to her boyfriend’s house.” I don’t know why, but my dad has been overly nice to her all night and if it’s because he thinks she’s with me, it’s about time we clear that shit up.

He looks at her with disappointment and I want to punch him.

She stares right at him looking like a scorned child. “He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just considering the whole dating thing at the moment, but I don’t even know if that’s a possibility because he’s got some issues and it’s not really his house I’m supposed to be at, it’s his garage and half the school will be there so I was just about to tell Nash that I don’t want to go because I’m tired and I don’t really feel like being at a party.”

“Great,” he says with a huge smile. “You can stay with us.”

“Umm,” she stalls, looking at me. “Yeah, I mean, if you’re okay with that?”

I tamper down the relief and excitement building in my body and tell her, “I just told you, you can stay as long as you want to.”

She smiles at me, and then at my dad. “Okay.”

With that, he’s dragging her across the house and out the back door. I trail behind them, slightly baffled by both of their behavior. He’s got an arm around her and is using the other one to animate whatever the hell he’s talking about.

This is not typical Nick behavior. Not that he’s unfriendly, he’s not at all, but he’s never this friendly and generally ignores my high school friends when I bring them around. Especially the females. And what the hell is up with her? Choosing to hang out here, with us, instead of getting to the guy she’s been obsessing over who is finally willing to
give her a shot.
God, that crap still annoys the hell out of me.

Inside the pole barn, guys from our crew and their ladies are hanging out. Nick brings Presley into the fray, but I hang back, going to my car, using it as an excuse to take a minute. I don’t know why. I watch as he brings her to his little coffee table that he only uses in the mornings and I can’t believe he actually brewed her a pot of coffee. I know it was for her because no one around here is drinking anything but alcohol. But she fell asleep on the way home, and he’s going out of his way to give her what she needs.
What the hell
.

Nate comes over to me, follows my gaze and says, “What the hell is up with Dad?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“I guess the better questions is, what the hell is up with you and that girl?”

BOOK: A Son of Carver (Carver High #2)
7.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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