Pull (A Seaside Novel Book 2) Page 4

  “Right.” She patted my arm and led me to the door. “Just

  think about it, okay?” She pushed a small, yellow paper into my

  hand. Did that mean I had to read it?

  I stuffed it into my pocket. “Fine. Hey, is Nat home?”

  Mrs. Murray tilted her head. “She didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “One of the shows was canceled, so Nat flew down early to

  be with Alec.”

  “Oh.” A stab of disappointment jammed my chest, irritating

  the hell out of me.

  “Demetri?”

  “Yeah?” I turned back around.

  “You need to find some friends.”

  Find? She made it sound like a Where’s Waldo game. Crap. At

  this point I’d even settle for Waldo, but there were next to no

  normal people in this small town. Most of them partied anyway.

  How did a person even make friends without partying? I laughed

  and shrugged her off. “Story of my life. I’ll let you know how the

  search goes next time I’m out and about, singing my taffy song.”

  “Okay.” She smiled warmly, and I left the house.

  The warm summer air whipped my hair against my

  forehead. I pulled out my cell phone and sent a group text to Nat

  and Alec.

  BOTH OF YOU SUCK. I HATE U. O, AND I ALMST CRIED

  IN MY COUNSELING SESSION. YOUR FAULT. BOTH OF U. P.S.

  I TRIED THREE FLAVORS OF TAFFY TODAY. SCORE!

  I jumped into my car. Within seconds the phone buzzed. I

  looked down, and there was a picture of Alec and Nat both making

  sad faces, and below the picture it said, WE LUV U. STOP BEING

  A BABY. MAYBE IF U EAT THE ALCOHOL-FLAVORED TAFFY,

  YOU’LL STOP BEING SUCH A GIRL. KIDDING. STAY CLEAN !

  “Right.” I rubbed my eyes and started the engine, then

  remembered I lived next door. What the heck? Maybe I was losing

  my mind. The last place I wanted to be was home by myself. Bob

  might get pissed, considering he’s kind of like my babysitter, but

  still. I wanted to go. Out.

  I put the car into drive and headed toward city center.

  Chapter Five

  Alyssa

  I closed the door to the store and leaned against it. There

  wasn’t much to clean up, considering we hadn’t been very busy.

  After my counseling appointment, I came back to the store to work.

  Dad and Mom both decided to go home and have some

  dinner. But I wasn’t hungry; besides, someone had to stay and lock

  up.

  I went to the counter and put away the free samples. We had

  just made a new flavor. It was salted caramel popcorn. I had

  wanted to try it, but the smell kept me away.

  Grimacing, I threw it in the trash and gathered up the tossed

  wrappers. Within a few minutes the back counter was cleared. The

  sun was beginning to set. I went to the windows to pull the blinds,

  when a flashy car caught my eye.

  What the heck was Demetri doing back at work?

  I knew his schedule. Okay, so I hated myself that I knew his

  schedule. But he only worked until four every day. It was already

  past six. I was still trying to decide how pathetic it was that, after

  only a few days, I knew exactly when the guy arrived and left

  work. Clearly, I needed to find a hobby or something.

  Like a peeping tom, I drew the blinds farthest from the door

  then peeked between them. Demetri’s car was parked by the taffy

  store, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  I squinted and opened the blinds wider.

  Weird. Did he go inside?

  I was just getting ready to open the door and step outside

  when a hand hit the window in front of me.

  With a curse, I fell back to the ground taking an entire row of

  taffy with me.

  Lucky for me, the blinds to the door weren’t closed, meaning

  Demetri, the bastard, saw everything.

  Though to be fair, he did look a bit shocked as he ran into

  the store and helped me to my feet.

  “Trying to kill me?” I brushed his hands away, but he kept

  prodding at me as if I was some sort of science experiment gone

  bad, so I shoved him. It just seemed like it was the right thing to do.

  And honestly, it felt good to hit him. Maybe I was packing a lot of

  rage for the rock star. But nobody should have it as easy as he did.

  Good looking? Rich? All he had to do was smile, and he had the

  world at his feet. Maybe it was jealousy that while I was stuck at

  my parents’ store, he had the whole world as his oyster, yet chose

  to get high and nearly kill himself instead of doing something with

  his life.

  “I’m so sorry.” Demetri dropped to the floor and began

  putting the taffy back into the buckets.

  “You’re sorry you scared me? Sorry you nearly gave me a

  heart attack? Or sorry you caused me to bruise my butt?”

  Demetri looked up into my eyes with his smug smile. “Your

  butt, huh? Want me to take a look? Wouldn’t want any permanent

  damage.”

  “No thanks.” I rolled my eyes and knelt down next to him.

  “You can go. I’ve got this.”

  “This…” He pointed to the mess at our knees. “Is all my

  fault. Honestly, I was just trying to scare you, not kill you or

  destroy your taffy. Hey, what flavor is this?”

  “ADD much?” I snatched the taffy from his hand.

  “ADD? Hey, that’s like our band name, AD2…” He grabbed

  another piece of taffy from the floor. “How about this one? What’s

  this flavor?”

  “Oh my gosh! Just leave!” I snatched the taffy from his hand.

  He shrugged. “I have nowhere to go, and this is going to

  take you at least another hour. Plus, it’s the least I can do after

  nearly killing you at the ripe old age of…” His voice trailed off as

  he looked at me with seductive eyes.

  I felt myself flush as I looked away. “Eighteen. I’m

  eighteen.”

  “Me too.”

  “Congratulations, you’ve found common ground. Now we

  can get married.”

  “Ah, the other one.” He snapped his fingers in the air and

  grinned.

  “Huh?”

  He unwrapped a piece of taffy. “The other sarcastic client

  Mrs. Murray had today. Thanks for that, by the way. By the time I

  got to her she had already had her fill of sarcasm for the day. And I

  ate an entire bowl of popcorn to keep myself from spilling all my

  feelings.”

  “An entire bowl?” I divided the taffy into piles, so I could

  put them in the right buckets. “And you’re still hungry?” I pointed

  to the taffy he was unwrapping.

  “Oh this.” He put the trash in his pocket and popped the

  taffy into his mouth. “I told my friend, Nat, that I’d stay clean,

  right?”

  I nodded.

  “So, I have this thing. Every day I stay clean, I try at least

  three new taffy flavors. Gives me something to look forward to and

  all that.”

  “That’s depressing.”

  He laughed. “If you only knew.” His eyes sparkled just a bit

  before he scratched his forehead and swallowed the taffy. “So what

  flavor did I just eat?”

  “I
don’t know, give me the wrapper.”

  He pulled it out of his pocket and placed it in my hand. I

  purposefully ignored the fact that his touch lingered longer than

  necessary and lifted the wrapper to my nose. “Blueberry

  pancakes.”

  “Whoa. Taffy super powers. Nice.”

  I laughed. “To be fair, you have the taffy jingle super

  powers, so we’re kind of even.”

  He smiled back at me. My heart nearly stopped. His deep-set

  dimples brought attention to his mouth, and when I looked at his

  mouth, I felt things I hadn’t felt since Brady. I cleared my throat

  and continued putting taffy into piles.

  Demetri sighed. “Right, so I’ll just help you sort all this.”

  We worked in silence. Demetri ate two more pieces of taffy,

  each time asking me to please sniff the wrapper, because it was the

  most exciting thing he’d seen in weeks.

  It was hard not to laugh around him.

  “That it?” He picked up the last bucket and shoved it onto

  the rack.

  “Yup.” I looked around the store.

  “Can I ask you something?” Demetri looked at me then

  down at his feet. Was he nervous?

  Amused, I crossed my arms. “You may ask me something,

  yes.”

  “Promise not to laugh?”

  “No.”

  “Promise not to feel sorry for me.”

  At that I did laugh. “Easy. I’d never feel sorry for a celebrity

  who owned a car more expensive than my house, but since it seems

  to piss you off more, yeah, I feel real sorry for you.”

  His shoulders seemed to sag a bit. “Fine, at least promise

  you won’t blog about what I ask you.”

  “That, I can promise,” I agreed. “That is, if you promise to

  leave.”

  He rolled his eyes and ignored my jab. “What’s it like to

  have friends? Actual friends. The types you can tell anything to, the

  ones that you do stupid shit with and stay up all night with just

  shooting the breeze?”

  That was not what I was expecting him to ask. Stunned, I

  could only stare at him as I told my mouth to work and form

  words.

  He cursed. “Forget it.”

  “No, wait.” I grabbed him before he could leave. My hand

  was on his thickly muscled forearm. I swallowed the dryness in my

  throat as I looked into his eyes. I expected to see some sort of

  smugness or at least the familiar cockiness, but all I saw was pain.

  Deep-rooted pain.

  I knew that look.

  It was the same look I saw in the mirror every single day.

  And I knew because of that look, now I felt bad that I promised

  him, because in that moment I did pity him. I pitied anyone who

  had that look in their eyes, because I knew what it meant. I knew

  what it held. I knew what its future was, and it was a very, very

  lonely future.

  “Honestly?” I pulled back my hand. “I used to know what it

  was like. It was nice. But I don’t really have friends anymore.”

  “Why?” His eyebrows drew together in confusion.

  I wanted to tell him everything, tell him how they’d

  abandoned me after the accident. That I was considered broken,

  and after a while my friends couldn’t handle being around me. It

  was too hard for them, too hard for me, and eventually too hard for

  everyone in this sleepy town.

  “They moved away,” I lied and gave him a weak smile.

  “Besides, I have a career.” I nodded to all the taffy and offered him

  another smile.

  He smiled with me. “Yes, I can see that.”

  “Good.” I nudged him. “Anyway, thanks for helping me.”

  “Well, it was my fault to begin with, but you’re welcome…”

  I knew he was searching for my name.

  I bit my lip and sighed. “Alyssa, my name is Alyssa.”

  Did he just blush? Demetri looked down at the floor then bit

  his lip. I wondered if he had the same nervous habit. “I like it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Don’t you want to know my name?” he teased.

  “I know your name.”

  His face turned serious. “Can I tell you anyway?”

  “Sure.”

  “Demetri.” He held out his hand. I took it. His hand

  engulfed mine. It was like shaking hands with a giant. A very hot

  giant.

  “Nice to meet you, Demetri.” His name felt good on my lips.

  I wasn’t sure if I should kick him for it or just pretend like I didn’t

  care that he had such a crazy effect on me.

  He released my hand and pushed the door open, then

  turned around. “So I’ll see you around then?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “And I’ll be over there.” He nodded toward the corner.

  “Singing.”

  “Don’t forget your bucket,” I teased.

  He roared with laughter. “Goodnight, Alyssa.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Holy crap. I was in some deep, deep trouble.

  Chapter Six

  Demetri

  I smiled like an idiot the rest of the way home. I couldn’t

  help it. Alyssa. Laughing, I walked into the house and went to the

  fridge for another soda. I’d usually have a beer about now, and I

  was excited about actually talking to someone my age who wasn’t

  my brother, my brother’s girlfriend, or a crazy fan. In fact, she

  didn’t even stutter when I talked to her.

  I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned or excited.

  The TV was on in the background. I flipped open the can of

  soda and downed half of it before jumping onto the couch.

  Bob was sitting there, his eyes trained on the TV like a man

  starved. Poor guy, because of his job he hardly got any TV time in,

  and I know he was just as bored as I was, considering he had to

  basically wait around while I worked at the taffy store.

  “Tried blueberry pancakes yet?” I took another sip of soda.

  “Yup.”

  “Cherry Cola?”

  “Yup.”

  Damn. “Salted caramel corn?”

  Bob fell silent then looked at me. “Nope.”

  We played this every night. He was so far ahead in the taffy

  tasting that it was pathetic. It was my one goal to beat him and eat

  a piece of taffy he hadn’t yet eaten.

  His eyes narrowed. “Seaside Taffy doesn’t have that flavor.”

  “I know.” I smiled triumphantly. “I was flirting with the

  competition.”

  “Whoring yourself out again?”

  “Very funny, Bob.”

  He shrugged. “I thought so.”

  “Admit it, you want to try some now.”

  “Maybe.” He rose from his seat and gave me the remote.

  I shook my head. “It’s all yours tonight, man. I’m going to go

  write.”

  “School’s out?” He leaned in as if to see if I was high.

  I slapped his hand away. “I’m not high, I’m not drunk, and I

  know school’s out. Songs. I’m going to go write some songs.”

  “You haven’t written since you and Nat…”

  “Thank you for being so perceptive.” I slapped him on the

  back. “I’ll be upstairs writing and pouring out my feelings. Have

  fun watching the game.”

  He nodded and sat back down.


  ****

  My guitar was gathering dust in the corner. I hadn’t picked

  it up since that day last fall when I crashed Nat’s homecoming and

  played the song I wrote for her. I didn’t know it at the time, but she

  and my brother were already in love. Later that night, I tried to get

  her out of her clothes and into my bed before my brother beat me to

  it.

  I hit a wall.

  It was like, I couldn’t write anymore.

  It was also part of the reason I didn’t feel bad that Alec was

  doing all our promo. We were supposed to go back on tour after

  my rehab stint this summer, and somehow we had to record our

  album in the next four months to do some tours in the fall.

  It was the beginning of June, and I was still twiddling my

  thumbs about writing some stuff.

  Before, all my songs had been about getting wasted and

  partying at the clubs. Then I wrote a song for Nat. It was my

  favorite song I’d ever written. It was a different sound than before

  and was going on our next album.

  I wanted more songs like it, more songs that talked about

  important stuff, not just going to parties and living it up.

  I strummed a few chords and sighed.

  The view from my room was legit. I put the guitar down and

  pushed open the window. The sea breeze floated into the room.

  Sitting back down, I grabbed my pencil and paper and strummed a

  few chords again.

  “Good Taffy, strong taffy,” I sang, then laughed. Wow, the

  fans would love that one.

  “Salted caramel corn makes me want to kiss her…” I

  crooned and snorted with disgust.

  “Alyssa,” I said her name softly and then a little louder.

  Something was up with that chick. Why wouldn’t she have

  friends? I didn’t for one second buy that crap about them all

  moving away. Besides, she was gorgeous. I mean, she didn’t dress

  the best, but still, those eyes, those lips? That face. I knew a hot girl

  when I saw one. At least the girl should have a boyfriend.

  “Pretty girl.” I sighed, and then like it had happened

  thousands of times before, my fingers glided across the guitar, and

  I began to sing.

  “You’re bad. Bad for me, bad to me, bad with me. I know it when I

  see your face, the way your smile tilts that way. But I can’t, can’t stop

  myself from staring, can’t stop myself from swearing. I’ll never be that

  way, with you.

  Slowly, I catch myself from falling, faster. I want to be with you