Over the Fence Box Set Page 2

  “God my head feels like a fucking jackhammer drove through it.” I wake to Kelsey cursing and writhing about in my queen-sized bed. Looking to my right, I notice Chloe stirring as well, sleep all but ended by Kelsey’s bitching and moaning.

  “You can’t drive a jackhammer, but I am in the pits of hell with you.” Chloe moans as she jams a pillow over her head.

  Sun streams into my room, blanketing the yellow walls and causing me to throw off the covers. Snuggling with my best friends was a favorite pastime, but lately, that pastime involved more late-night wasted stumble-ins and less scary movies and popcorn. Kelsey and Chloe had gotten fall-down drunk last night, resulting in me half-dragging them to my room. If my dad weren’t so oblivious, or spending every free minute of his time at the station, we would never have a place to crash.

  That’s right, pretty ironic that the police chief’s house was the go-to crash pad for underage girls after a night of partying. But being found out would require my father to stay at home for more than three-minute intervals, which he most certainly didn’t.

  He spends every waking, and a lot of times non-waking, moments at the station patrolling his force. Not that I blame him, he simply can’t bear to be in the house he once shared with my mom. He’s not a bad father, not by a long shot; he keeps a roof over my head, makes a decent living as the top dog in this pricey town and I never want for anything. Except maybe a little love and attention.

  “This hangover is well worth it though. That party was bangin’, and do I ever mean bangin’.” Kelsey winks at me, wiggling her butt in the air as she grins.

  I did notice she’d disappeared there for a while last night and I had a sneaking suspicion Bryce was involved. He was her man of the moment or at least of the past couple months. Kelsey believed in serious sex and casual relationships. She’d rather have orgasms than commitment.

  “I feel like an elephant is sitting on my bladder,” Chloe whines as she stumbles for the hall in an attempt to find the bathroom. I have never met anyone who has to pee as often as my best friend; I honestly don’t know how she slept through the night. Much less made it through an entire performance of Swan Lake.

  “Can we please talk about Mink’s steamy convo with none other than Owen Freaking Axel?” I hear Chloe shout from the open bathroom door. Another thing Chloe hasn’t mastered, boundaries.

  “Oh em gee, I seriously almost forgot about that. Seriously, Mink, what was he saying to you?” Kelsey screeches in my ear, suddenly catapulting herself to a kneeling position on the bed. Guess her “headache” is long gone.

  “He wasn’t saying anything, besides the usual idiotic stuff guys like him say.” I turn my body away from Kelsey, trying to hide the deception I know is lingering in my eyes.

  “Oh no, did you snap at him? I will kill you if you murdered your own chance to romance Mitchum’s star child.” Chloe sighs, shaking her head as she falls back onto her designated side of the bed.

  “Yeah, Chlo, he really had feelings of romance toward me. Those feelings were located right in his pants …” Chloe was always grumbling on about trying to find a man with a sensitive side. Good luck with that. “It really was nothing, guys. He didn’t know who I was, fed me some line about being beautiful and wanting to join me by the pool and I left. You know I see through that transparent crap now.” I stare at the ceiling, willing them to move on to another topic.

  “Whoa, whoa hold up! He called you beautiful? Owen Axel called you beautiful, and you didn’t automatically jump his bones? You are some kind of superhuman. I would have been on my back from the minute his eyes landed on me,” Kelsey scolds me, sighing as she inspects the split ends of her auburn mane.

  “From you, I’ll take that as a compliment. Plus, jumping someone’s bones at a party is just so me, right?” I fire back harsher than I mean it to sound.

  “Oh, Minka, that’s not what I meant. Not every guy is like him.” Kelsey squeezes my hand under the sheet, but cocks her head. “Wait, they kind of are … but you need to beat them at their own game. Don’t give them the power to take you down and everything gets so much better. So much.” She waggles her light eyebrows at me, clearly insinuating what the benefits of taking your own power brought.

  “She’s right. At least about the first part … not every guy is the scum of the earth,” Chloe chimes in, rubbing my back. “But I’m telling you, Mink, you’re going to have to take a chance someday. I honestly don’t know how your heart is surviving.”

  “Can we please drop this?” I plead as my cheeks heat with this latest romance insight by Chloe. “He’s a player and probably only came up to me on a dare or because Allison wasn’t there yet.”

  “Ugh, that hoe bag was there all right. She spilled an entire beer down my leg and proceeded to death-stare me like it was somehow my fault. That bitch is nastier than my aunt Felicia’s pet poodle,” Kelsey grumbles. She really does have a way with words.

  Allison Renner is your typical queen bee. Head of the cheerleading squad, one of the richest kids in town, she drives a convertible BMW and I wouldn’t be surprised if her bleach-blond mane was insured. She and Owen had dated almost our entire sophomore year until he broke it off before leaving for college. Owen and Allison, the stereotypical teenage golden couple. They’d won homecoming king and queen, made out in the halls between periods and there was a rumor way back when that she’d be following him to college where they’d live together. Excuse me while I vomit in my mouth.

  I ignore the twinge in my chest as memories of Owen pinning Allison to the nearest locker flood my brain’s personal movie theater. Why would I even care? It’s not like I want to be anything like her.

  No, but after last night, my body has started to warm to the idea of being with him.

  “Whatever, we don’t need to waste any more time on her. You guys want some cereal?”

  “Ugh, we need to start staying at Chlo’s more often, Mama Trabucco always has homemade pastries. Mmm, those delicious ones with chocolate and almonds in the middle,” Kelsey whines as she strolls to the dresser and begins to brush her hair. “Anyways, no, I gotta head to the preserve.”

  Kelsey spins her tendrils around until they form a neat knot on top of her head, which she secures with a bright orange hair tie. She’s worked for her father at the Mitchum Nature Preservation since grade school. She didn’t need to work, her parents are wealthy nonprofit do-gooder types, but Kelsey is so passionate about nature and animals that it was more like fun than work.

  “Yeah, I have to go too. Church first, and then Mama promised to take me shopping for new leotards. Of course, I’ll send pictures. I think I want a few more—”

  “Let me guess, pink ones?” Kelsey finishes Chloe’s sentence with an eye roll. Chloe lives for anything pink, she is the ultimate girly-girl. Kelsey, the proverbial tomboy hippie chick of our group, gets off on teasing her about it.

  “Yes, and maybe I’ll even get a black one, to match your soul.” Chloe sticks her tongue out as she slides her feet into her pink flip-flops. Chloe’s family owns a string of highly successful Italian restaurants. Most of them are Zagat-rated, which is saying a lot considering this is North Carolina, home of the fish fry and ribs. And with her Italian family values, attending church on Sunday is an absolute. The only excuse that got her out of it was recitals or a performance. I might have two left feet, but watching my best friend dance is like watching God perform a miracle. She really is destined to be a prima ballerina.

  We make our way into the foyer of my father’s sprawling ranch. You’d be surprised how much the people of Mitchum pay their chief to keep any and all scandal out of the papers. I leave out crime because really, the most that happens here is a cat gets stuck up a tree or some cocky boys steal beer out of someone’s garage.

  “A’ight, bitch, we out. Call us later if you want to divulge any hot fantasies about Mr. Axel.” Kelsey winks, licks her lips, blows me a kiss, and is out the door.

  “I’ll text you. Let’s get dinner tonig
ht or watch a movie or something. You aren’t allowed to sit on the porch reading books all summer.” Chloe shoots me a stern look before wrapping her arms around me.

  “But what if I like books better than people? Wait, let me rephrase that, I do like books better than people. So, let me live a little.”

  “Oh, stop. Love you, see you later.” I close the door behind her and survey my surroundings. It’s not that our house isn’t beautiful, it just doesn’t look like anyone lives here. The whole place has always reminded me of one of those extended-stay hotels. It lacks all the hominess I’d come to envy when visiting my friends’ houses.

  I walk back to my room which at least has a little more flare. Pictures of me, Chloe, and Kelsey hang around the wood mirror over my dresser, lotion and perfume bottles sitting in rows underneath them. Having a slight touch of OCD, okay, maybe more than slight, I organize my closet in color-coordinated sections by season. Yes, admitting to addiction is the first step to recovery.

  One of my favorite things about my room is my bookshelf, or should I say wall of books. One of the only fatherly gestures Chief Braxton has shown me in the past decade was installing that wall of built-in shelves in my room.

  Books overflow from the brims of the ceiling-high towers and it calms me just to have all of my favorite stories at the touch of my fingertips. Circling, I focus in on the nightstand that contains, in the bottom drawer under a stack of notebooks, the only picture of my mother I’d ever come across.

  Deciding not to suffer in the silence of my empty house or be left alone with my Owen thoughts, I pull open my closet doors and grab my Nikes. Time to clear my head and running always does the trick.

  4

  Owen

  Sweat pours off my shoulders as the North Carolina sun beats down my back. I always forget how fucking hot it is here in the summer. At school in Virginia, it is a little less humid. Or at least less like this swamp air I’m trying to run through.

  My legs pump in a rhythmic motion as my feet pound the pavement in Mitchum Park. My body vibrates with adrenaline. I knew running would clear my head. Plus, I’d missed this park. These trails. The heavily wooded area that lie on the outskirts of town.

  I need my head clear these days. I pray for it. With only one thought plaguing my every waking moment, making it to the big show, I feel a little like a hamster on a wheel. Making it. The MLB. It has been drilled into my head since the day my former-pro father found out I was left-handed.

  Carl Axel, all-star first baseman, made sure his only son would be a great pitcher someday. Whether I wanted that or not.

  Regardless of my unfortunate biological ties, I’m happy to be back in Mitchum for the summer. Seeing my boys, partying, and no games for three months. And last night had proven to be a great kickoff to what I keep thinking of as my last lazy summer. Except for the one little hiccup, Hinkley’s party had kicked ass.

  So why can’t I stop thinking about the hiccup? Chicks always come so easily to me. Talking them into bed, out of their underwear, and sending them on their way with a smile. It’s what I do, and I am good at it. Great at it. So how did I manage to single out the one girl who is apparently allergic to my charm?

  Minka Braxton is cute. No, not cute. She’s gorgeous and sexy in a girl-next-door way. She has no idea how attractive she is but exudes this brazen confidence through every pore. She is a walking contradiction.

  When I spotted her across the lawn at Hinkley’s party, it was all I could do not to trip over my feet trying to get there first before another guy could swoop in on what I wanted.

  Her slim, tan legs wafting in the water, meeting her tiny waist hidden by those sexy-as-fuck jean shorts. Her white tank top highlighting the way her tits pushed together, revealing some tan, sun-freckled cleavage but concealing so much more.

  I want to find out what’s concealed, and for a couple of seconds, all I can think of is what they would feel like in my hands. She has elegant but muscular arms that hold onto that beer, and when she took a long, lazy pull from that bottle, my dick twitched to attention.

  Yeah, her body is slammin’, but it’s her face that has me pushing people aside to reach her from across the backyard.

  Minka has high cheekbones in a rounded face, with features that make her look like a Mediterranean model. Dark brown eyes convey her every emotion and flash with a bit of uncertainty and annoyance as she surveys the party. A slender hooked nose ties her face together, and I automatically want to plant a kiss on it. Which is not my usual game, but even before I’ve spoken to her, I know this girl won’t be my typical conquest.

  Long, unruly brown tendrils hung down her back and my fingers itched to wrap them around my hand as I yanked back to feast on her perfect collarbone. And her mouth, God, I don’t think I could focus on it too long or I’d keep imagining those plump, peach lips on my own. Kissing down my body. Or better yet, wrapped around my cock.

  So I was an idiot for not realizing she was from Mitchum, much less that she had shared a gym class with me for four whole months. I was actually still kicking myself for that one. How had I been so close to that beautiful creature and not notice her?

  Her sarcasm and biting comebacks surprise me. No chick has ever talked to me like that. Usually, they don’t do much talking. But it actually leaves me wanting more. I am surprised I’m not drooling on her halfway through her verbal attack.

  As if my mind could conjure her, I focus in on a perfectly rounded ass jogging at a steady pace about thirty feet up the trail. Those long, tan legs cut elegantly through the hot air. Her athletic, voluptuous body moving like she’s in some kind of sportswear commercial. When I see the mass of curls tied back and swishing just above her lower back, I don’t even think and break into a sprint. This girl is already affecting my usual game in all sorts of ways.

  Pulling up closely behind her, I turn down the rock music that has been blasting in my headphones.

  I can hear the rap music booming so loudly in her ears that I know Minka definitely doesn’t hear me sneak up behind her. I watch as she trots along for a few minutes, rapping the lyrics under her breath. Damn, she can do that pretty well for someone who’s keeping pace with a nine-minute mile.

  Her perky ass taunts me and my dick, which can’t seem to stay anywhere lower than semi-erect around her.

  She moves her body fluidly, arms matching the pace and rhythm of her shapely legs. Sweat gathers on her neck and all I want to do is to take her down and lick every inch of her gleaming figure. She looks pretty doing something that made me smell like a sweaty jockstrap. Where has this girl been all my life?

  Still not aware of my presence, I decide it’s time to stop being a stalker and announce myself. But how? I’d like to think I could give that peach of an ass a spank. But fuck, as much as my hand is itching to, Minka would probably use my headphone cords to strangle me.

  She loathed me trying to cheaply seduce her last night; I have a feeling she might murder me with her bare hands if I touch her without asking.

  Moving forward, I fall into step with her and lightly tap her tan, bare shoulder. My dick rears up from just the contact with her flesh. If I am ever lucky enough to seduce this girl into my bed, I will for sure have to excuse myself to jack it before we got down to business. Wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of her.

  She immediately stiffens and looks back, a mixture of fear and fury painting those beautiful features. She’s afraid? What’s she got to be afraid of?

  I move quickly in front of her to block her path, trying to make her aware that it’s only me. But, I hadn’t anticipated my movements throwing her off balance.

  As she turns back, I move around her, forcing her to turn her head on a double-take. This takes her attention away from her feet, which are now tangling and giving out from under her. I watch the surprise on Minka’s face, almost in slow motion, as she begins to fall, and I immediately reach out to grab her waist.

  Dragging her descending form toward me, she throws my cent
er off balance and we begin to fall together. We’re going down, and seconds before we hit I angle my body under hers so that I take the brunt of it.

  Grunting on impact, my lower back and shoulders make contact with the gravel. We bounce and skid, once, twice, before coming to a stop. I can already feel cuts on my calves from where they scraped along the ground. But all is forgotten the moment I realize Minka is lying flush against me with my arms hooked around her hips.

  Looking down, I can see the tops of her breasts peeking out of her sports bra. The mounds are dotted with tiny sun freckles and I swear I imagine laying her down in my bed and counting those endlessly. I can feel the sweat on her waist and my hand moves slowly to the curve of her lower back, relishing her silky skin as my cock presses against her tight stomach.

  Down boy, I have a feeling we are about to be scolded. And I was right, for when I finally meet those beautifully rounded eyes, it’s as if I’ve pissed off an extra-gnarly rattlesnake.

  “What the hell! Are you fucking crazy?” Minka explodes, pushing off of me.

  My dick surges forward as the curse flies past her lips. Nothing gets me harder than a girl with a dirty mouth. But now was most definitely not the time.

  “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” I voice my concern as I start to get up, already feeling my sore tailbone protest the movements.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” She starts to stalk away and my eyes roam over her body, checking for scrapes or bruises. She seems fine, but I have to jog to keep up with her.

  “Sorry, I saw you ahead of me and wanted to get your attention. I had no idea you had the grace of a newborn pony. It’s not my fault you couldn’t hear me, what with the rap party going on in your ears.”

  Her face reddens and she casts her eyes to the side as if she’s embarrassed that I’d found out her music taste.

  “Why did you look afraid when I tapped on your shoulder?”

  Now she looks a little pale. It shouldn’t turn me on, but her face is just so expressive. “I thought you were … someone else … never mind.”