Dare to Kiss (The Maxwell Series Book 1) (7 page)

“Buddy, if you value your life, I would back off.” I was shaking inside. Alarms were blaring in my head.

He lowered his hands. “I’m just here to give you a message.” His voice was deep.

I glanced past him. The black truck was still parked at the corner. “What’s the message?” I asked.

Flicking his finger behind him, he said, “Kade wants to talk to you.”

Quirking an eyebrow, I snorted. “What are you? His bodyguard?”

“I don’t want any trouble.”

“If you didn’t want any trouble, then you shouldn’t have grabbed me the way you did. Now, tell Kade to eff off.” I had to go. Dad was going to kill me if I didn’t make this appointment. I was about to cross the street when he laughed.

“He said you would tell me that.”

I wasn’t angry anymore. I was downright infuriated. I clenched my hands into fists.
Who the hell did he think he was to send a message through this guy
? It wasn’t even a message. If he wanted to talk to me he should’ve just gotten out of his truck and said something. Then again, maybe he was afraid of me after this morning in the janitor’s closet. I discarded that thought. He’d seemed to be enjoying himself. “Oh, and I didn’t catch your name,” I said.

“Hunt.”

“So, Hunt. Do you go to our school?” This was the guy Becca had mentioned.

“Nah. I graduated last year.”

I suspected as much. I’d only been at the school a week, but I would remember seeing this dude. He had a large scar over his left eyebrow that he tried to hide with his wavy blond bangs. Plus he was built like a bear. I’d bet he played football.

“I’ll tell Kade what you said.” He turned to leave.

“One more thing,” I called. “Tell him when it comes to me, hunting season is closed.”

Hunt grinned. I ran down one block, around Dr. Davis’ office, and to my car. I was too worked up to meet Dr. Davis for the first time, and I wasn’t sure if Kade was watching. I didn’t want to take that chance.

By the time I pulled out of the lot, Kade’s truck was gone. Waiting for the light to change, I spotted a gun shop down the street. I had to tell Dad about it. I wanted a new gun. Joe, who worked at the gun range, recommended I check out a Glock. He’d said it was lighter than the Kimber I had.

Driving back to the house, I turned up the radio. They were playing Zeal’s new song.
Oh, my God. Dad didn’t tell me that they’d released it
. I loved them. Their songs were alternative rock, and the lead singer had a raspy voice with a great tone. All the females loved J.J. When he sang I always felt like he was singing just to me. When he stared into the camera with his deep green eyes in his music videos, it was heart-stopping, especially when he sang his gut-wrenching ballads. The emotion he put behind each song made women want to drop their panties. I’d hung out with the band when they were in the studio recording. I knew J.J. had had a bad breakup with a pretty model, and from that he wrote killer love songs.

As I listened a tear came to my eye. I’d watched them rehearse this song, but I hadn’t heard the final version.
Wow
! J.J’s fans were going to weep. The chorus was amazing. However, the part of the song that sent my body into tingles was, “
Her touch was magical, her caress was soothing, and her silky voice slid along every nerve, awakening the man in me.”

Sniffling, I pulled into my driveway as the song ended. When I did, Dad came storming out of the house, grimacing.
Uh-oh
. Cutting the engine, I jumped out. Dr. Davis must have called him.

“Where have you been? You missed your appointment.” His tone was deadly as he came down the brick path from the front porch to my car.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I ran into that Kade guy in front of Dr. Davis’ office, and I didn’t want him to know I was seeing a psychiatrist.” I’d never lied to my dad, and I wasn’t going to start now. Besides, fear fueled his anger. He knew I could handle myself a little better now. Still, he worried about me. I mean, he couldn’t be with me every minute of the day. Dr. Meyers had told him that he needed to let me breathe and not suffocate me. The only way I was going to learn to deal with life was to get out and face my fears.

“Lacey Robinson,” he said, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I thought something happened to you.” His chest rose then he let out a breath.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called you.”

“You’re damn right.” He threw his arms around my neck, hugging me. “I know I need to let you live your life, but…I can’t lose you, Sweet Pea.”

Forget the one tear that fell when I listened to the song—I now had a river of them coursing down my cheeks. “Dad, you’re not going to lose me,” I said between sniffles. “I’m so afraid of people in school finding out about my PTSD.”

“It’s okay. I explained to Dr. Davis about our concerns about privacy. He understands. But you can’t keep missing appointments because you run into classmates.” His voice was firm yet gentle.

“I know, but I panicked.”

“You’ve got to learn to trust a few people in your life,” he said as we walked into the house.

“I don’t know, Dad. It’s not like I’m going to be here another year, especially if I get the scholarship to ASU.” I was afraid to get too close to anyone. Not because I was off to college in another year—I didn’t trust myself. The whole breakup with Brad hurt, but part of me was also humiliated for not seeing the signs: he cheated on me with another guy.

Dad shrugged. “Trust your friends. I’m not saying that you have to tell them your life’s story, but you do need to relax. You know that’s going to help you with your PTSD.”

Again, I couldn’t argue. I was frightened I would snap at school, in front of everyone. I didn’t want people to know I had a mental illness. The bullies would come out of the woodwork like cockroaches.
Oh, God
—what if I wasn’t allowed to try out because of my PTSD? After this past week, I was beginning to think that moving to Massachusetts might not have been a good idea. “Relaxing has nothing to do with trusting people, Dad.”

“Regardless, remember what Dr. Meyers told you. You need to learn to break down your walls. When you do that, then you’ll begin to heal. You’ve made significant improvement in less than a year, Sweet Pea. And baseball is helping that, I’m sure. Now allow your friends to get to know you, that’s all I’m saying.”

I only had two friends—Tyler and Becca. Could I trust them? The jury was still out, although Tyler had a large part of my trust. He hadn’t said anything to anyone about the gun incident with Kade—at least, not that I knew of.

Dad made a pot of chili for dinner. He had a few signature dishes—aside from chili, he made the most delicious lasagna, and he loved to make beef stew.

After dinner, I washed dishes and cleaned up while Dad went into the family room to pick out a couple of movies. I decided to ditch the football game. I sent Becca a text message letting her know I would be hanging out with my dad. She was disappointed that I would miss the game. I hated that she was upset, but it was the first time in a long time Dad didn’t have to work on Friday night. He’d hired a night manager, and he wanted to see how the guy handled the situation without him for one night. If Dad had to go in, though, he would. He’d said he was tired, and the dark circles under his eyes supported that, plus he wanted to hang out with me.

Once the kitchen was cleaned, I popped two bags of popcorn in the microwave then joined Dad in the family room. Halfway through our second movie my phone beeped.

It was a text from Tyler.
Where were you? You missed my game.

I’m sorry. My dad stayed home tonight. Hanging with him. Did you win?

Of course.

Cocky, aren’t you?

Maybe. Need help practicing tomorrow?

Yep.
I could always use his help.

See u at the field.

“Everything okay?” Dad stretched in the leather recliner.

“Yeah. It was just Tyler asking if I was practicing tomorrow. I have to keep the momentum up for tryouts next week.”

“Jot down the dates on the calendar in the kitchen for me, please,” he said.

After I put my phone on the coffee table, I curled up again on one end of the couch. We resumed watching
Miracle
. Dad loved this movie. We’d watched it at least a dozen times during the past year. He’d said the story instilled a sense of how humans could overcome adversity. I liked it because it showed me dreams could come true. As the credits rolled and Dad snored, I said a small prayer that we would both make it through this next year.

Puffy clouds drifted lazily across the sky as the sun rose on Saturday morning. I met Tyler at the school’s ball field bright and early. He had everything ready for our two-hour practice instead of three. I couldn’t do more than that. My arm was becoming a noodle with all the pitches I’d been throwing.

“Hey, Lacey,” Tyler said in a chipper voice. “You look well rested.” He wore a Kensington High sweatshirt and black sweatpants.

“I do? Or are you being sarcastic because I didn’t go to the game last night?”

“Maybe.” He dumped a bag of baseballs into a five-gallon bucket behind home plate.

“I told you I was sorry. Why was it so important for me to be there?”

He raked his gaze over me slowly.
Ooookay
. Under his scrutiny, a sinking feeling swirled in my stomach. Dropping the bag he’d been holding, he gently grasped my wrists.

I didn’t move. What was he doing? We were friends. Moving closer, his gaze lowered to my lips. I blinked a few times, praying I didn’t have to kick him in the balls like I’d done to Kade.

“Get a room, you two.” Out of nowhere, a familiar voice cut through the sudden tension between Tyler and me. I was never so glad to hear Kelton’s voice.

Slowly, Tyler dragged his attention from me to Kelton. “Hey, dude.” He let go of me.

What the heck just happened
? “What’s he doing here?” I asked, trying to shake the haze from my head.

“I asked him and Kross to join us this morning. They’re both vying for a position on the team. I thought they could help—you can throw pitches, they can practice their batting and fielding.”

“Yeah, girl. We’d like to see what all the fuss is about. Tyler seems to think you’re great. Me, I don’t believe it,” Kelton said.

I narrowed my eyes.
What an ass
.

“Hey, don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m just saying,” he rasped as he put a blue ball cap on backwards.

Images of me strangling Kelton popped into my brain. I’d been hanging out with boys my entire life. I even put up with a lot of crap from the team back in California, but Kelton was one for the books. Why he got under my skin more than anyone was beyond me. Or maybe I knew, and I didn’t want to admit it. After all, he sounded just like Kade. It was clear that Kade and Kelton were related. Granted, all the Maxwell brothers were gorgeous, but looks only went so far. Kade had a quiet intensity about him. He gave me the impression he fought hard and loved harder.

“Where’s Kody? Doesn’t he play?” I asked.

“Not this year.” Kelton tossed his bag on the ground near the backstop. “He’s ‘pursuing other interests.’”

Kelton’s lookalike brother strode over from the dugout, tall and muscular. Side by side, I could see that he had bulkier biceps than Kelton.

“This is my brother, Kross.”

I flicked my head at him. “What’s up?”

“Well, now. I’ve heard so many things about you,” Kross drawled in the same voice as Kelton. His blue eyes seemed a little darker than his brother’s.

I rolled my eyes. “Did you now?” At this moment, I realized that Kody had a slightly lower pitch to his tone than these two brothers.

“When I first saw you in psychology I didn’t agree with Kade. I only saw the back of your head. Up close, though, Kade was right. You are freaking hot,” Kross said as he sized me up like I was some piece of meat.

A faint buzzing whirred in my head. “Is that how you two pick up girls? By looking at them as if you’re starving?”

“It works,” Kelton said nonchalantly, like I should know this.

“You must pick up tramps, then.”

“Lacey?” Tyler snapped.

“What? I’m tired of these two morons talking to me like I’m some prize that they have to compete for. Their innuendos are disgusting.”

“Lacey,” Kross said, slipping his sports bag from his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m not a jackass like my brother Kelton here can be.” Unlike Kelton’s and Kade’s shaggy crops, Kross’s black hair was cut short and shaved on the sides.

I was thankful for the different hairstyles. Plus it also helped that Kelton was wearing black track pants, and Kross wore a pair of gray wind pants. At least I could tell these two apart. “Could’ve fooled me,” I said.

“Hey, whose side you on, bro?” Kelton demanded.

“Shut up, man.” Kross whirled on his brother. “If Dad heard the way you talk to some girls, he’d tan your hide. If Kade heard it, you know he wouldn’t hesitate to go a few rounds in the ring.” Turning his attention back to me, he smoothed his hand over his head. “Forgive us—or at least me. There’s no excuse for his behavior.”

“I accept your apology, Kross. Maybe there is hope for some of you.” I glowered at Kelton.

He batted his long lashes my way. “I’m not changing who I am, so get over it,” he said.

“Whatever. Just remember I can dish it out too,” I countered. “I have a mean right hook. Just ask Kade.”

Tyler pushed Kelton. “Get out to shortstop.”

“Anytime, girl. The ring awaits.” He stalked off to take his place at shortstop with his glove in his hand.

I had no idea what he meant by “ring.” Given that Kross referred to something similar, I guessed he meant a boxing ring. It might be fun to box with one of these guys.

“Lacey, take the mound,” Tyler said with a little irritation in his tone. “Kross, why don’t you catch for now?”

Kross donned a catcher’s mitt and ball cap then got a ball out of the bucket.

“Take a few warm-up pitches and loosen your arm,” Tyler said as he grabbed a bat out of his bag near the backstop.

I got my glove then trotted to the mound. Loosening up, I threw the ball lightly into Kross’s glove. After a few warm-up pitches, I adjusted my stance on the mound, placing both feet on the rubber. I held my glove chest high with my right hand inside, gripping the seams of the baseball. I took a small step back, preparing for my windup. In one fluid motion, I raised my left knee in a high kick, pivoted my right foot and threw the ball, hitting Kross’s glove dead on with a thud.