When Its Least Expected (4 page)

“I know, Abs, but I can only do and say so much,” Harley whispered back. She finally

pulled into the school lot a good five minutes later.

She scanned the crowds of cars tapping to the beat of her new favorite song on the
wheel

and finally launched herself into a space without a second glance. She turned around
to grab her bag in the backseat. When she moved back around and prepared to say goodbye
to Abigail, her throat went dry, and her eyes bulged at the site standing twenty or
so feet ahead of her car.

“Crappity crap,” she griped, slouching further into her seat. The simple effect of
just

seeing that head of familiar hair had her stomach doing all sorts of crazy mad somersaults.

“What is it?” Abigail questioned, curiosity etched her voice.

“Nothing. Gotta go,” Harley snapped, quickly sliding her finger across the end call

button.

She had a new issue apparently. How in the hell would she get in the building without

him seeing her?

She slowly unbuckled her seat belt, all the while biting her lip. She exhaled a heavy

breath as she reached for the door handle. “I can do this. He’s just a boy.”

A very hot boy who you can’t stop dreaming about, but hey, who cares, right?

She glanced down at her shirt checking for syrup stains before she finally grew some
girl

balls and got out. Sure enough though, the closer she seemed to get to the entrance,
the more she realized that he was surrounded by girls. Lots and lots and lots of skanky
girls. Well, they weren’t
all
skanky, but still…

Come on, Har! You can do this!

Who was she kidding? The site of him surrounded by at least six or seven pairs of
pawing

hands was seriously getting under her skin. “Jerk,” she muttered, her lip curling
in disgust. The guy most likely hadn’t even been there for ten minutes, so the fact
that he already had a fan club should have told her something.

Irritation dripped from her like a second skin as she quickly made her way up the
stairs.

Her head went low, and with every last bone in her body, she tried to make herself
invisible.

Still, she couldn’t resist looking up at him when she finally made it to an almost
safe zone.

Unfortunately his eyes were already one hundred percent plastered on her.

Her breath hitched as that haunting smile curled up on one side of his perfectly sculpted

face. Harley quickly turned away before her insides could go gooey any further. She
was a total and complete basket case, and if this was any inclination of how it was
going to be with him there, then Harley was in severe ass trouble.

Keep going, and don’t look back. You’re almost inside.

She pushed past one last crowd, having earned her fair share of bitchy remarks in
the

process. She didn’t care. Hell, she would gladly take the cruel words from the crowd
just to get away from that boy. For some reason, her face was flaming hot and her
body was most likely

warmed beyond the normal ninety eight point six degrees. She patted her cheeks. Ugh.
What was wrong with her?

As she cleared the entrance, she exhaled while closing her eyes in relief. She shouted
a

mental thanks to the air conditioner Gods above.

With her heart finally back to a steady beat, Harley made it to her locker just in
time to

grab the necessities she needed for her first few periods. She slammed the metal door
shut behind her and turned to move, but something hard and very, very tall was in
her way. She gulped,

lifting her chin only to notice a beautiful hemp necklace. It came complete with a
tiny little surfboard charm that laid flat against the most perfectly sculpted neck
ever. She shivered and not at all from the cold vents blowing air down on her. She
peeled her eyes from the site, lifting them a little higher.

A full set of spectacularly, shaped lips just so happening to surround a set of even
more

perfectly white teeth. Everything about this guy caught her off guard. She stifled
a giddy laugh, tucking her lips into her mouth. She always giggled when she was nervous,
no matter the

situation.

Sweet Jesus … he was hot.

Then a jagged scar caught her attention along his chin, and her mind wandered through

the possibilities of what might have happened. She snorted internally.

Huh? Not so perfect now, are we, mister surfer boy?

Hell, who was she kidding? That boy was made up of nothing but perfection. The scar

only emphasized that more. She swallowed hard, finally fixating her eyes on his. Unfortunately,
they were just as beautiful as she remembered.

“Going somewhere, little beast?” he asked. His voice was deep and rich; like warm

chocolate when it melted in her mouth.

“Sorry,” she squeaked, staring down at her hands, trying not to appear all that affected.

She cleared her throat and tried again. This time her confidence didn’t waver when
their eyes connected. She was finally prepared. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. Can
you move, please?” He didn’t move. If anything, he seemed to inch closer.

Breathe, Harley. Just breathe….

“No problem, I was just trying to get to class myself. Not sure where I’m going through,”

he shrugged; a sense of vulnerability seemed to pass over him. It was surprising …
and sweet.

Then again, sweet was not always a good trait, was it…

She reached for his schedule and only intended to verbally point him in the right

direction. “Let me take a look?” Maybe on purpose, or maybe not, their hands grazed.
Harley jumped. The still nameless boy smiled that knowing grin at her. She narrowed
her eyes up at him wanting nothing more than to smack it off.

Harley cleared her throat, clenching the paper tight as her eyes drifted through his

information at the top of his pink schedule. Mason Daniel… For some reason,
that
name totally fit his surfer boy persona. She skimmed her finger over the sheet further.
Dammit, they seriously had to share three classes together? First hour, fifth hour,
sixth hour, all honor classes too.

Just my damn luck, a smart boy and a hot boy, all wrapped up into one, perfect … never

mind.

“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me for first period Sociology, and then Advanced

Chemistry and Honors English Lit.” She sighed, folding the paper up as she carefully
placed it back into his hand. This time she managed to avoid the skin on skin issue,
thank God.

He grinned down at her, and she blinked. Dammit all to hell, dimples? Why did he have

to have dimples? “Awesome. Thanks, Harley.” She nodded, quickly averting her eyes.
Dang it!

She totally did not just swoon over dimples.

She was so dead…

* * *

The first day wasn’t turning out to be so bad. His classes were intriguing; the company
in

them was even better. Hell, having Harley in three out of the seven made it worth
his time! The two of them technically didn’t speak the rest of the morning after their
hallway interlude, but the heat in her gaze throughout first period had Mason squirming
like a pubescent thirteen year old boy in his desk, even if she had looked as though
she was contemplating murder at times.

Shit though, her feistiness alone made him crazy with a want he couldn’t describe,
and

keeping her out of his head was almost impossible. Curvy older blonde girls with porn
star

bodies was what he liked, scratch that … what he needed. Not slim brunettes of the
same age with eyes that resembled his favorite cake.

Yeah, he wasn’t fooling himself. Little beast had his body all wound up, both inside
and

out. It wasn’t good, especially for someone who wasn’t planning on making friends
or getting attached while he was here. That plan definitely included little fire ball
girls, who got him all hot and bothered with the simple bat of their eye lashes.

The worst part was, for the first time in Mason’s life, he had the strangest desire
to get to know a girl on a much deeper level, and not just in the back of his Charger.

“Mr. Daniel, are you going to attend this class today, or do you find the hallway
that

much more interesting than my lecture?”

Shit, dude! You’ve gotta get your head out of your ass soon before it’s buried too
deeply.

“Sorry, sir,” Mason sighed, running his hands over his mouth. It was only third period,

and he already had a teacher up his ass. The day might have just taken a turn for
the shittier.

Not soon enough the bell rang, and Mason darted out of his chair, heading towards
the

double doors, leading to what he had hoped was the cafeteria. With his book bag slung
over his shoulder, he weaved in and out of the swarms of kids until he spotted his
sister with a group of her friends. It was a relief seeing her giggling and smiling.
His entire body slouched with ease at the site. Maisy deserved to be happy, more so
than anyone else he knew.

He gave her a little nod and made his way to a loner table nearby, eager to be alone
with

his thoughts, but a presence loomed over head as he took out his sandwich. “Hey, don’t
sit alone, Mase.” Maisy’s voice echoed in his ear, “We’ve got plenty of room.” She
motioned back

towards her table.

Oh, so she wanted him around when it was convenient for her?

He shrugged. Whatever, it didn’t matter. She took charge and packed his crap back
into

his bag and then turned to march away. He grinned as her long, blonde ponytail swished
behind her like a horse’s tail.

Obviously he didn’t have a choice in the matter anyways.

“So, Mason, how’s your first day going so far?” Maisy’s chipper voice exploded with

excitement as he pulled up the seat next to hers. He narrowed his eyes, glancing around
at the girls seated at the table. His entire body stiffened as they all sighed in
unison.

Mason snorted, and shook his head as he stared down at the table. All of their glazed
over

eyes on him was not just funny, but a little freaky too. “

Not bad, mouse. Not bad at all.”

He leaned back in his seat, munching on a carrot stick. Maisy groaned at her nickname,

and Mason smiled widely in response. That’d teach her to invite him over to a table
full of hormonal fifteen year olds again.

The silence afterwards was almost deafening, that is until her friends began their

interrogation. They were like tiny cats in heat, ready to pounce and go in for the
mate. One red headed girl in particular seemed to be the ring leader. Well, dictator
was the better word. He hated her the second she opened her mouth.

“So, I hear you’re going to be a professional surfer someday. That’s…” she licked
her

lips, “… hot.” With her fake ass nails, and plastered on makeup, this girl oozed with
confidence that seemed to exceed even his own.

Mason gritted his teeth. He’d dated plenty of girls like her at home. Why, now, did
he

find them so unappealing? He smacked his lips, “Yup, but I won’t be here long…” Yeah,
he was being an ass, but she didn’t need to know a damn thing about him.

He studied her, narrowing his eyes the more she opened her red, painted lips. She
was a

bitch personified, and he had a pretty good idea that she’d do some serious damage
if she was ever rubbed the wrong way. Mason wouldn’t be rubbing her … in anyway.

He leaned his elbows against the table and dove back into his lunch, chewing loudly,
as

he waited for the attention on him to cease. For once in his life, girls were actually
annoying him.

Or was it just because he only wanted
one
girl’s attention instead?

“Well, I’m Chelsea, by the way, and I am very sure that you are going to find all
sorts of

reasons to want to stay here in Hillsdale.” She giggled, raising a hand to paw at
his shoulder. He stared down at the evil talon clawing at his white t-shirt. Yeah,
he really didn’t like
her
or her hands on him either.

He scooted his chair back towards Maisy, plastic Barbie responded with an angry huff,

and smacked her hand on the table top. He shrugged. At least, maybe, she’d finally
taken the hint.

The rest of the twenty minute lunch period passed at a snail’s pace. Mason barely
spoke,

as the girls continued to gossip around him. He only occasionally glanced at his sister
to give her a goofy face, or an eye roll. She always answered him with a giggle. It
was good to hear her laugh again.

He stood as the warning bell rang, noting something dark out of the corner of his
eye as

he tossed his stuff in the garbage. He smiled, his entire body came alive. It was
his little beast, with her gorgeous head of black hair cradled in small waves over
her right shoulder.

With a quick wave to his sister over his shoulder, he found himself racing like a
crazed

man to get to her. She was calling to him. She was like this beacon of heavenly light
that he had to get to before it completely disappeared. He had to see her; he had
to touch her in some way too. God he was a moronic, obsessed idiot anymore. It had
to have been the open, country air of this town. Or maybe it was the lack of ocean
water that had his brain all muddled too. He shook his head, his feet moving
like lightning as he darted in between the circular tables. It didn’t matter.
In that moment, she became his unattainable goal.

He smiled slowly at the thought. He definitely liked to aim high.

But just as he reached the edge of her group, the same guy from Friday
night with the letterman jacket, sauntered up behind her. Mason stopped and held
his breath as he watched the guy wrap his arm around her waist. He sneered down at
the move, waiting for the right time to come forward, the right time to step in.