Forever Branded (Billionaire Love Series #1) (27 page)

“You gonna get some pussy, tonight?” Tony, a hockey buddy of mine asked as we drove down a residential street lined with oak trees.

“Maybe,” I shrugged casually, playing it cool.

The truth was there was only one girl I wanted to be with.

I was falling for Marla, big time.

All I did was think about her.

She was my first thought when I woke up and the last image in my brain when I went to sleep. The problem was I didn’t know how to tell her my feelings.

“I am ready to party!” Tony announced as he hit the dash.

“Don’t hit Betty!” I scolded.

“Whatever, dude. Relax about your car.”

I petted the steering wheel. “It’s all right, Betty. Don’t listen to him.”

“You’re way too serious about this car, dude.”

“She’s a classic and deserves to be treated with respect,” I countered.

He just shook his blond head in denial. “Whatever. Let’s just get to the party!”

We pulled up to Chad’s house and parked across the street. His parents were never home, but left it well stocked with alcohol. It was like they were inviting teenagers to party there every weekend.

What can I say?

It was the early nineties; excess was still in.

The familiar smell of beer and sweat hit me as we walked into Chad’s massive house. A kid in my business math class slid down the main banister and crashed into the people standing close to the stairs, like a bowling ball taking out some pins. Everyone sprawled across the floor, laughing in their wasted state.

I shook my head and stepped over a kid who was giggling uncontrollably. “Did you see that?” he asked me.

“Yep.”

“Hey, Beau!” Chad called out from a black leather couch, sitting with his black sunglasses on, as if he was in the movie
Risky Business
.

I waved. “What’s happening, man?” I called out, above the roar of people and music.

“Just hanging out. Get yourself a beer.”

“Will do.”

Walking into the kitchen, I spotted Jeremy. He was getting trashed, chugging beers with a crowd around him. I ignored the douche bag as I ran into my good friend, Troy in the living room. He played on the hockey team with me and we were tight.

“What’s up, dude?” Troy asked, shooting me a friendly smile.

“Just chillin’,” I answered coolly as we bumped shoulders and patted each other on the back.

He smirked. “Looks like you’ve got company.”

“Hi, Beau,” Ashley sidled up to me, exaggerating her hip movements. Her rockin’ body was nice, but nothing compared to Marla’s.

“Hey,” I said, wishing she would just go away.

“Wanna dance?”

“No, thanks,” I said as I glanced up in time to see Marla across the room.

My mouth flew open. I knew she was hot, but she had kicked it up a notch in her mini-skirt. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

What was she doing here?

She didn’t like to party.

Dave Kawaski was dragging her to the dance floor as she went along with a grin on her pretty face. I tracked her every move as she danced, watching her deal with Dave’s spastic movements as he showed off his ridiculous dancing skills.

I watched, amused. Marla was a good sport, trying to dance along. But she was attracting a lot of attention. Male attention. I didn’t like it.

She caught my glance as the dance ended and I made my way over to her. I asked her what she doing there and she acted as if she was some party girl.

I didn’t buy it.

I pressed her again and this time she got mad, accusing me of not wanting her to be there. I tried to play it off, but I really didn’t like how every guy there was staring at how hot her ass looked in her skirt.

That’s when stupid Ashley found me again, latching onto my side. I wasn’t even thinking about her as I stared at Marla. So I didn’t see Ashley coming as she gripped my face, her mouth on mine before I even knew what was happening.

“What the hell?” I asked as I pulled my lips from hers. “Get your nasty lips off me,” I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Shit. Marla.

I saw her streak upstairs as I cursed.

“Oh, Beau,” Ashley said a wicked gleam in her eye as she took in the drama. “So sorry to disturb your little domestic scene there. You’re too good for her, anyway. When you’re ready for a good time, call me.” She winked and walked away.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Marla:

I lay in bed as I always did, wistful of past decisions, disappointed my practical nature had caused my heart such sorrow. I quietly shut the lid on my dream world, accustomed to living with the ache that sleep always brought.

That ache —it had become a friend to me— refused to go away, even when I’d begged. Last night had been wonderful and exciting, but also sad and heartbreaking. Beau and I appeared to be on different planes, destined to run parallel lives which never intersected.

It was hard to believe we could ever find common ground again.

I could only hope.

I gazed through the window, reminding myself to be thankful for the little things, like sunshine and M&M’s. I yawned, stretched long and hard, and snuggled into the covers a little deeper.

I loved a quiet start to my day, staying in bed until the real world beckoned me to come play. Eventually, my feet hit the hardwood floor of my cozy bedroom and I ambled into the bathroom. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I wandered back into my bedroom and threw open the closet door.

Searching through all of my photo albums, I grabbed the one that was special to me. I had kept a record of all of Beau’s newspaper clippings from the time he was drafted to his rise as a real estate mogul. It was a ritual of sorts to look through it. One I did every once in a while when I was in the mood to reminisce.

I flipped open the black-colored album, my eyes landing on a newspaper article. It showed a picture of a sports car, crushed and split open with the title
Hockey Player Spared
splashed across the top.

I ran my hand over it, remembering how stricken I had been when I found out Beau had been in an accident that almost claimed his life.

For weeks, I grieved silently, wishing I could be there for him.

But I had responsibilities I couldn’t just up and leave. Charlie was only seven and Emma was getting ready to graduate from high school.

So I fervently prayed and hoped he made a full recovery. I was so relieved when I found a couple of articles about his rehabilitation and his desire to make a comeback.

But my heart broke again when he was released from his team in Toronto. I knew what hockey meant to him and what it cost him to have his career taken from him in the prime of his life.

I prayed again that he would find a new direction in his life which would be fulfilling. It wasn’t long after this when I started seeing articles about his rise in real estate.

My heart was warmed by his success, but he seemed to adopt a playboy lifestyle, appearing in gossip columns regularly for attending parties and dating Hollywood starlets and debutantes.

When I read stuff like that, it made me think about what it would have been like if my mom had lived and I hadn’t been forced to break up with Beau. We would have gone to Toronto together and probably had a family of our own. He would still be playing hockey and we would be living a great life together.

But I couldn’t dwell on the what-ifs.

Besides, I wouldn’t have had my special relationship with Emma.

Affectionate, kind, and levelheaded. Even at ten, she knew we had to stick together to make it work.

It was another beautiful Saturday afternoon in May as Emma stood by our shabby front door, with a loaded pink backpack strapped to her shoulders.

“You got everything you need, kiddo?” I asked.

“Yep, I’m ready,” she said, rocking back and forth on her heels.

She was so cute with her blond ponytails. She was getting ready to spend the night at her friend, Katy’s house. They were supposed to have a big adventure and camp out in Katy’s backyard.

It was the first time Emma would be sleeping outside in a tent.

I wanted her to have a good time, but I also wanted her to be safe. “Just have fun. But if something doesn’t feel right or you have a funny feeling in your tummy, go tell Katy’s parents or you call me. Okay?”

“Yes, I know,” she said matter-of-factly. “The Matthews always listen to their instinct.“ She sighed in exasperation after citing the family motto.

“That’s right. Now, go have some fun, Sugarpop. Mwah!” I kissed her on the cheek and neck as she squealed delightfully.

“Stop! Stop!” she giggled. “Okay, okay, I’ll go have fun.”

“Good.”

She bounded out the door to Katy’s family car and I waved from the railing as Emma got into their mini-van.

Stacy arrived a few minutes later. We were getting together to study for our trig spring mid-term.

“Hey, Stacy,” I said as I answered the door.

“Hey, yourself,” she said, waltzing in.

She was always bold in her clothing choices. That day was no different. Wearing cut-off jean shorts over fishnet stockings, a Madonna inspired black leather jacket over her white tank top and combat boots, she sat down at our mint green kitchen table. Her eyes flickered up and down over me as she put her boots slowly up on the chair.

“What?” I asked as I wiped down the counter.

“So I heard a rumor.”

I hesitated as I pulled open the dishwasher. “Oh?”

“Yeah, there’s this crazy rumor that Beau Shepard is madly in love with you.”

“What?” I asked as the plate I was holding dropped to the burnt brown linoleum floor with a loud crash. “No... no... that can’t be right.”

Her blue green gaze filled with satisfaction. “Seems like you answered the question right there. Wanna tell me anything?”

“I just tutor Beau in English. He’s not in love with me,” I denied as I got out the broom and dustpan which were stashed behind the ancient olive green fridge.

“Several sources say they’ve seen you two in some compromising situations.”

“Can’t a guy and a girl hang around together without it being a thing?” I asked, sweeping up the broken plate.

“Are you officially denying you’re together?”

As you know, Stacy would grow up to become a reporter.

Always a nose for news.

“Yes, I am officially denying it. Besides, Ashley DeGraw hangs all over him. They’re probably dating,” I tried to say lightly, but it didn’t feel so light. I didn’t like saying that.

She arched a dark brow in disbelief. “So there’s nothing going on between you two?”

I had no concrete proof of Beau’s feelings for me and I wasn’t about to go around claiming things that weren’t true. “Look, we’ve never kissed and he’s never asked me out.”

Her blue green gaze danced with a calculated delight.“That doesn’t mean anything. That boy taped food to your locker, rescued you from a fight, and looks at you with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before. I’d say he’s into you. The question is: do you want to be with him?”

I rubbed my lips together, contemplating my answer.“I don’t know. It scares me how I feel about him. But more importantly, he hasn’t ever said or done anything that tells me he has feelings for me, and I refuse to be all moony around him and act like I want attention from him.”

She grinned as she cocked one of her eyebrows at me. “But you do want attention from him?”

“Of course I do!”

She gave me a sly smile. “You wanna go to a party tonight?”

“A party?” I wasn’t big into the get drunk every weekend scene. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t afford to do that with Emma around.

“Yeah, Chad Chilton is supposed to be throwing a huge rager. We’ve gotta go.”

“Why do we have to go?”

“Duh...cute boys and a house with no parents. Hottest party of the year. You have to go.”

I briefly wondered if Beau would be there.

“I don’t know,” I bit my lip thinking about the possibility. “Let me think about it.”

“Okay, but I’m not going to take no for an answer. I think it would be good for you to see Beau in a different light.”

“Why? Is he different around his friends?”

“Maybe. But you’ll only know for sure if you come with me.”

“Emma is staying at a friend’s house tonight,” I said, considering her offer.

“Perfect. Let’s knock out studying for this trig test and then we’ll go to my house and get ready. I want you to dress up tonight and really wow Beau.”

I was curious and willing to risk a night out.

I smiled big. “I’m all yours.”

She grinned back. “Good. Now help me understand how to calculate the value of cosine for this triangle,” she said, pointing to her trig book.