Waiting for Wyatt (Red Dirt #1) (21 page)

“And there she is. My girl is looking hot tonight.
Zoey!
” Marcus yelled over the music at the tiny brunette who came in the front door. He poured one final shot in my oversized glass, slapping me on the back. “I’ll see you later. And try to have a little fun tonight. You can go back to being a Texas nun after break.”

“Asshole.” I shook my head, swallowing the contents of his parting gift.

Marcus ran off across the living room and grabbed Zoey Lemming, lifting her right off the nasty carpet. She squealed as he spun her around before sticking his tongue down her throat. She was the only girl Marcus had ever hooked up with and the only girl he’d sworn to ever love.

As he whispered in her ear, Zoey turned in my direction. She waved, and I nodded in return. They were the perfect couple: the quarterback and homecoming queen kind of shit.

My eyes drifted around the room at the bare walls. Half of the paper was ripped off next to the couch. An area of the kitchen still had fire damage from the time we had gotten smashed junior year—the kind of drunk that made us think spiders were edible if we set them on fire.

Then I saw her. My ex-girlfriend Melissa, wearing a tight, red sweater. Damn, Trevor was right. My hands and eyes were very familiar with that body—and that shit was no longer real. She looked up in my direction, sending over an icy stare. Melissa was still pissed at me for ending it before I’d left for college.

“What are you doing over here alone, Wyatt?” Becca handed me a can of beer.

“Just taking a breather.” I tipped the can back, swallowing half of the cold liquid. “What are you doing these days?”

“Not much. Still doing hair at the Glamour Shack.”

“Sounds nice.” I didn’t know what else to say. Swallowing the rest of the can, I leaned against the wall. The noise in the room got vague and hazy in my head as her hand rubbed along my thigh. I knew what she wanted. Things had always seemed to continue between us, off and on through the years, after our first time together.

Removing her fingers off my crotch, I pulled Becca into the bathroom. Her kisses were familiar. Her body moved in all the same ways as I pressed her against the white ceramic sink. Becca slipped her fingers down between us and tugged the zipper on my jeans.

I let go long enough to pull the broken drawer open on the cabinet. Grabbing a condom from Trevor’s stash, I lifted Becca onto the sink. We fit together just like a hundred other times.

The bathroom door opened, and Ronny Burkett walked right past us. He took a long piss in the toilet before stumbling back out the door, slamming it behind him.

“Oh my gosh.” Becca burst out laughing, her forehead leaning into my chest as she struggled to stay sitting on the sink.

“I don’t think he even saw us.”

“But I saw more than I ever wanted of Ronny. That’s some nasty stuff he keeps down there.” Her nose squinted up. “And he didn’t even wash his hands after touching it.”

“So I guess those rumors of you and The Burkman weren’t true.” I grinned back at her.

“Asshole. You know I got better taste than that.”

Becca jumped down, fixing her skirt. She kissed me briefly, leaving the taste of beer and strawberry lip gloss on my mouth.

Someone beat on the door. “Stop fucking in there. I need to take a piss.”

Becca whispered against my lips. “This was fun, you know. Catching up.”

I smiled back at her. “I should come home more often.”

“You should.”

The flimsy door rattled as someone took a fist to it again.

“I guess we better get out of here.”

“Bye, Wyatt.” I let Becca kiss me one last time before opening the door. She gave the middle finger to Jimmy Meisner who was waiting to come inside the bathroom. Damn, that guy was everywhere tonight.

I walked back into the crowded living room, picking up a couple of cans of beer. I took a seat alone on the couch. I never made actual plans to have sex with Becca when I came back into town. But we always had a tendency to find each other. There were no delusions. We both knew it would never be more. I never loved her or Melissa for that matter—even with her new tits.

I wasn’t like Marcus. I’d never felt something even close to what he shared with Zoey. I cared about Becca in a friendship kind of way, but Melissa could go to hell. She had a scary-evil temper. After one of my games, she’d burned all my jerseys when she decided I’d lied about what I did at one of Trevor’s parties. My high school coach almost kicked me off the team.

A glazed-over Marcus half-fell down on top of me. “Come on, buddy, you ready to go again? I’ve got money riding on you.”

“I think I’ve had enough.”

“Come on. One more round of Crash. I’ve got a hundred bucks on this one. You’ll crush it. Win one more for me. Remember. You’re on
vacation.
” The words slurred from his grinning mouth.

“Marcus, I’ve got grandparents coming at seven in the morning. I’m out, man.” And I needed out of this house too. I needed some fresh air or rather a little nicotine. “I’ll catch you later.”

Grabbing my hoodie, I made my way outside into the trash dump known as Trevor’s yard. I took a piss next to an old washing machine.

Leaning back against the house, my fingers touched the rotted siding. I remembered a time when it used to be yellow. Digging inside my pocket, I pulled out my cigarettes and lighter. I sucked in a drag, letting the smoke settle in my lungs before releasing a puff into the air. A slight gust of wind hit my neck. I flipped the hood up over my head, blocking out the freezing drizzle. It was going to be a nasty Christmas tomorrow.

Noises from the party drifted up into the quiet night. None of this ever changed. Life here was strange and yet so familiar. Taking another drag from my cigarette, I heard laughter coming from the back porch. I listened for a moment, catching the low voice of Trevor.

With a house full of girls, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d lured one outside to his usual spot on the covered back porch. Dropping the butt, I watched the faint embers disappear in the drizzle. The voices laughed again. I stepped around the old washing machine and through the overgrown weeds into the backyard . . . and then I froze in place.

My sister.
My little sister Willa was on Trevor’s lap in a lawn chair. Sitting on the wooden deck, her friend Layla leaned against his legs, holding a cup in her hand. The girls laughed at something he said too low for me to hear.

A slight gust of wind hit my face as I remembered the night Trevor had gotten drunk and tied a girl to the railroad tracks in some freaky-shit dare. I knew better than anyone what he liked to do with women. He bragged about it until I wanted to punch him sometimes. But like a moth to a flame, those girls always fell for him anyway.

“Hey, man.” His face took on that charming grin and my fists clenched into a death grip as I watched my
friend
touch Willa’s knee. “Look who showed up tonight. I’ve been trying to get your little sis out here for months since she got her license.”

“How did you get here?” I said, looking directly at her and ignoring him.

“I drove.” She scooted out of the chair, holding onto the plastic cup. Her arm moved in an exaggerated circle, sloshing the red contents all over her Ugg boots. The smell of alcohol drifted up around us.

“You need to go home.” I tried to keep my voice steady when everything about this situation made me sick to my stomach.

“I can’t,” she giggled. “Dad . . . um. He will . . . be mad if he sees me . . . like this.”

Shit.
She was drunk. The idea of Willa being hammered at one of Trevor’s parties sent a deep chill down my spine.

“Come on, Carter. Let her stay just a little bit longer.” He flashed that pathetic grin, but it wasn’t going to work on me tonight. He knew better than to mess with my sister.

“Get your stuff. I’ll deal with Dad when we get home.”

“You’re leaving?” Trevor got out of the chair and came down the steps into the yard. “I had to beg your ass to come over here. Now you’re leaving. That’s fine. Get the hell out. But maybe
she
doesn’t want to leave. You were having fun, right, Willa?”

“Shut the hell up, Trevor. You may act like you’re still in high school, but she’s the one who’s actually sixteen.”

“When did you become such a fucking tool?”

I punched him. He fell over backward before my fist even registered the pain. I shook my hand out a bit. Trevor spit blood on the ground. “Last damn party I ever throw you. College did nothing but make you into an ungrateful prick.”

My sister’s stupid friend Layla came over to his side, dabbing at his busted lip. Her sweater slid up a little around her waist, showing off a silver belly button ring. That lazy grin reappeared on his lips. I stared down at Trevor, shaking my head.

“She’s also sixteen. So keep your dick in your pants.”

“Go to hell, Carter.”

Grabbing Willa under the arm, her cup spilled down the front of my sweatshirt. I took it from her hand, throwing the blue Solo cup down on the ground with the rest of the trash.

“Come on.” I dragged my sister through the backyard. We stumbled down the grass path and into the front around a pile of beer cans. I walked too fast for Willa to keep up, but I didn’t want to risk Trevor following us.

“I didn’t mean for you to get in a fight,” she mumbled as she clung to my arm.

“It’s fine.” I hated the fact that I’d punched him. But he’d eventually get over it. We didn’t store up all that resentment shit like girls.

“I thought it would be okay to come to the party since you were here.”

“No. It’s not okay to be at Trevor’s.
Ever.
” I growled the words. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“But he’s your friend.”

“Yes, but Trevor and Marcus are not
your
friends. And
never
will be.”

She tripped, but I caught Willa before she fell completely in the grass. “Sorry. My foot got caught in some wire.”

“It’s fine. Just keep walking so we don’t get that wet.”

I stopped at her Tahoe, which was parked between a yellow Cavalier and a beat-up white truck. The smell of that red punch had followed us all the way back to her car. I didn’t know what the hell Trevor had poured down my sister, but it stunk like toxic sludge.

“The um . . . the keys are in here somewhere.” Her lips puckered up as she dug around in the large brown purse.

“No. Give them to me.”

“What about your motorcycle?” Willa handed over the ring with a little cross dangling next to the ignition key.

“I’ll come back for my bike tomorrow.”

I opened the passenger’s door, helping my sister into the seat. Going around to the driver’s side, I climbed behind the wheel of my old SUV that my parents had given to Willa. The fifteen-year-old motor fired up a little clunky. I took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel.

“Promise me something. You will never come here again.”

“Okay.” Her eyes stayed fixated on the darkness outside. “I only came because of you. I know I shouldn’t be over at Trevor’s. But when you got home, I thought you would be excited to see us. I wanted to watch
Christmas Vacation
like we used to. I thought it would be fun. But you didn’t even stay.”

Hearing the pain in her soft voice, I felt like a complete asshole. My jaw gritted tight as I watched a tear fall down her cheek.

“Maybe,” I muttered. “Maybe we can watch
Christmas Vacation
when we get back to the house.”

“Nah. It doesn’t matter now.” She wiped another tear from her face. I swallowed hard, seeing Willa lean against the window glass. I had crushed her tonight, just like I’d done a hundred other times through the years. I’d never done much when it came to her. She’d always asked me to come to her dance recitals and piano concerts and all that shit, but I’d never given her the time of day.

Someone beat on the driver’s side glass. I rolled down the window, seeing Marcus outside. “Can you um . . . shit. I’m drunk. Like
really
drunk. Can you give me a ride home?”

“Sure.”

Marcus climbed in the back door. He scooted to the middle, draping an arm over each seat. “Hey, Willow Tree. I didn’t know you came with Wyatt?”

“She didn’t,” I snapped.

“What’s wrong?” His words slurred into one.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

I went forward, tapping the yellow car slightly on the bumper. Throwing the Tahoe into reverse, I floored the gas pedal. I needed to get the hell out of here.

I was the black sheep of the family, the one who wreaked havoc and butted heads with my dad. My sister was the good one. She had no business being anywhere near this place. I picked up speed, trying to get Willa away as fast as possible before this house of hell seeped into her innocent skin.

As we cleared the railroad tracks, the vehicle lifted slightly off the ground. I flicked the windshield wipers on to clear the drizzle. My phone buzzed from inside my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw Trevor on the screen.

“Sorry, man. I would never touch your sister. Can I still come for stuffing tomorrow?”

Oh, hell. If Trevor didn’t come over, he would be alone on Christmas Day. Tossing the phone down in the cup holder, I would wait and text him back when I got home. I let out a deep breath, feeling the irony of the whole situation. The guy still made you feel sorry for him, even after he’d caused you to punch him in the face.

“How long you staying in town this time?” Marcus said next to my ear as he leaned on the back of the driver’s seat.

“New Year’s Day. Coach wants us back early.”

“Shit. You’re always running off. But you always loved football more than me. I only played because of you. Remember? You made me play varsity. I was going to quit.”

“I couldn’t play without my QB. I hate it now. Wish you would’ve come with me.”

“Too damn far away, Carter. Zoey would leave my ass. I’d never come back like you.”

“Asshole.” Glancing over in the passenger’s seat, I saw a tear fall down my sister’s cheek. I knew the comment about me leaving had crushed her all over again. I should come back more. I should be here for Willa.