AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t mention it,” he answers, with a naughty smile on his face before carrying my stuff inside the house.
It appears that after a bit of small talk and a tour of the place, our ‘Mötley Crüe’ is already part of the family.
“Finally, a woman to straighten us assholes out.” Jesse laughs, slapping his hand on Navarone’s shoulder, who smirks, turning his face away again. It seems like he’s shy about his crooked smile, while I think it is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
After we’ve all settled into our own rooms, it doesn’t take my brothers long to grab their surfboards and head out to the beach with Navarone. My dad is talking with Jesse in the kitchen. They are both big football fans and are discussing which guys to buy for their fantasy football league team.
I explore the house while I walk back to my room, checking out the gold and platinum records in the hallway. Memorabilia from touring the world decorates the house. Everywhere you look there are guitars, beautiful artwork, and posters of Jesse’s band hanging on the walls.
My own space is in a separate part of the building, next to the studio where Jesse records. I have my own bathroom and entrance, and I plan to enjoy these luxuries. It is miles away from the tiny apartment Dad is renting in Nashville, behind the studio he is working at. Dad had to sell the house I grew up in, in order to pay for the medical bills, and the second mortgage he had taken out when Mom got sick.
I put on my bikini and stare at myself in the floor-length mirror. I sort of look okay. My black hair is flowing in thick waves down my back and my pink lips stand out against my ivory skin.
I haven’t told Dad, but a model scout cornered me in Walmart while I was working and asked if I wanted to sign with an agency in New York. I’d said no. I was flattered, but I didn’t want to leave Dad or my brothers.
Dad is finally sober; not being able to cook him dinner and help him get out of bed on one of his bad days isn’t an option.
“Hey, Allie, are you coming to the beach?” Axl asks, pulling me from my daydream.
He slicks his wet hair back, setting his surfboard against the door. “What’s going on, Squirrel?”
He brushes my hair behind my ear before softly wiping my tears away with his thumb.
I take a deep breath. “I miss Mom. I think she would have loved it here; she was a California surfer girl after all.”
He takes me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. “She would have. I’m glad Jesse invited us to come.”
“And let us crash here.” I smile, looking up at him.
“That too.” He winks at me, taking my hand. “Come on, let’s go to the beach. You deserve to have some fun.”
Grabbing a towel, my sunglasses, and a book, I follow him out. Gunner and Navarone are already in the water, catching waves.
“You okay sitting here by yourself?” Axl asks, his surfboard under his arm. He always worries about me. Guess finding Dad passed out in the bathroom with a needle still in his arm when he came home from school one day—with Gunner and me playing with My Little Ponies in the next room—does something to you.
I nod, pushing my sunglasses up my nose and showing him the paperback I’ve been reading for the last week. “Go have fun,” I tell him, smiling.
“I’m here for you whenever, Squirrel,” he says, pushing my hair behind my ear again before he runs into the water to join the boys.
Turning on my stomach, I begin to read.
I startle awake by water tickling my cheek. I glance up and right into the smiling face of Navarone. My brothers are nowhere in sight. I must have dosed off. I sit with a start.
“You hungry?” he asks, brushing a hand through his wet hair. I stare at the droplets of water running down his sculpted torso; he’s like one of those Greek statues you see in travel brochures. His dark eyes roam up and down my body, stopping at my small cleavage. My hormones haven’t gotten the memo. I’m a couple of weeks shy of my seventeenth birthday, but still can’t fill out a bra.
I clear my throat and he quickly lifts his eyes as I stand.
“Are you hungry?” he asks again, no trace of boy left in his deep voice. “Dinner should be ready in a couple.”
“Yeah,” I tell him, avoiding his stare and pulling the towel around my body.
He picks up my book and reads the title, “The Dirt.” He smiles. “What do you think?”
“About what?” I say, trying to focus on his face, not his chest and the hairs there making him look even more daunting and hot as hell.
He chuckles at my response, handing me the book back and pointing to the cover.
“Oh, I like it. Sometimes it hits too close to home though. Dad used to tour with Mötley Crüe and Ozzy Osbourne back in the early nineties.” My heart rate kicks up. I never talk like that with strange guys. I mean, someone I don’t know. Shit, I’m still daydreaming.
