I am now. “Logan’s short tonight.” Although, not in ego.
We head toward the stone building, and I hold the door open for her.
“You’re such a perfect gentleman, Gage Oliver.” She squeals, breezing past me. “We’re going to have to find you a girl. Someone sweet. Although, I’ll warn you, every girl on the planet has a place in her heart for a bad boy. Maybe we should rough you up a bit first.” She scratches at my chest before dropping her hand just shy of my Levis, and I catch her by the wrist.
“Whoa.” A low, thundering laugh rattles through me.
If anyone specializes in getting down and dirty, it’s Brielle. But I’m not interested in her like that—never was, never will be.
Logan glances up from the counter. “You forget something?” His forehead creases as if my every move were suddenly under scrutiny.
“Nope, just felt like helping out.” I smack him on the shoulder as I move past him. “So, Bree”—I nod over to her—“any chance your friend might pop in later?” Skyla ended up staying for less than twenty minutes this afternoon. She mentioned something about unpacking.
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “No clue. Her parents look a little uptight, so I wouldn’t count on it. Why? You interested?”
“Of course he is.” Logan glances up from the register. It comes out like a dare, like a threat with the intent on providing bodily harm no matter what the answer might be. “Lie, and I’ll dock your pay.”
“So what if I like her? She’s nice.” I try to play it off as a small crowd storms the food line. I glance in the kitchen to make sure the staff has it under control.
“Nice?” Logan digs in with a partial smile. “I’m glad you think my future girlfriend is nice. It’d kind of suck not seeing you two get along.” He employs all the sarcasm he can muster. “Soon we’ll be locked at the hips—the lips. Consider yourself warned.” He gives a little wink before heading toward the shoes.
Brielle comes in close. “His future girlfriend? I don’t know Gage… Sounds like a war is about erupt.” She gives a wicked smile. “Are you just going to stand around and let him take over like that? I think you should go in for the kill and show him who’s boss. You’ve got hips, Gage. And, God knows every girl on the planet wants to kiss those lips.” She smirks. “Except me. No offense, but you’re practically my brother.”
“Got it.” I hold my gaze steadfast on Logan. “I guess if it’s meant to be with Skyla, no one or their body parts can stand in the way.”
“Mmm,” Brielle moans as Logan flashes those pearly whites at the girls lined up in the queue. “I don’t know. Logan’s got some mighty fine hips. Lots of girls out there would die to grind up against them. You’ve got some stiff competition, buddy.”
I crack a roll of dimes against the counter, and Brielle nearly jumps out of her skin.
“Holy shit, you scared me,” she screeches.
“Sorry,” I say, dumping the change into the register.
“Is that a little displaced anger I’m sensing?” She looks mildly amused with her hand still wrapped around her neck in fear.
“Who’s angry?” Logan pops up and grabs a towel from under the counter.
“No one’s angry,” I grunt.
“You still pining for what’s-her-face?” Logan twitches his nose the way he does when he’s trying to incite me into beating the crap out of him. “What was her name again?” He narrows into me with a crooked grin, hardly able to contain a laugh.
“Skyla Messenger.” Brielle hops up on the counter, gearing up for the show no doubt.
“I knew it was Skyla.” I shoot a look to Logan. “Although, I seriously doubt you forgot.”
“Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.” He cuts a steely gaze my way that lets me know we’re walking some invisible line, and I’m about to cross it. “Looks like Gage here has a hard-on the size of the Space Needle, Brielle. Do they make rubbers that big?”
It takes everything in me not to knock him over.
I hate how easy it is for him—see a girl and have her if he wishes. I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen. I’m pretty sure Skyla is the girl I’ve seen in my dreams, my prophecies, all these months—these years. Someone or something has made it clear as her crystal blue eyes that it’s going to be Skyla and me in the end, and there’s not a damn thing Logan or any part of his body can do to stop it.
I let out a breath as I take him in—his shit-eating grin, his ultra-confidant, cocky attitude—and I make a beeline for the exit. Logan pushed my buttons enough for one night.
“Where you going?” He calls after me.
“To meet a friend.”
Only that friend isn’t human.
2
Logan
My Happily Ever After, My Forever
The next morning, Gage and I head out to practice, and he doesn’t say two words on the way over. It’s like he’s pissed that I even looked at Skyla.
The guy didn’t even blink when Chloe used to throw herself in his face, and now he’s acting like he’s ready to tattoo some girl’s name across his chest as a method to secure her for himself.
Whatever happened to the girl of his psychotic dreams? I’d remind him, but I’m not in the mood to feed his psychosis any more than necessary. I’d hate to be the one to break it to him, but one wet dream does not a Mrs. Right make. Although, in Gage’s case, it probably does.
The fog rolls out across the football field like an invisible marching band as we make play after play enveloped in the thick nectar of ground clouds. The coach calls for a break just as the cheerleaders run onto the green. Gage jogs up beside me, and we stare over at them, hoping to see the long, tanned legs of our favorite L.A. transplant.
“Who are you looking for?” He shakes out his hair as if he didn’t already have a boner laid out to greet her.
“Who do you think I’m looking for? I’d bet good money Brielle dragged her out this morning.”
A dark, rotating stain in the sky catches my eye—a raven.
Nevermore circles and caws over the cheer squad like a siren. And there she is. Skyla wanders onto the field with Brielle just like I predicted. Her hair is pulled back, and just as I hoped, her shorts are better classified as a belt.
“You sicced your fucking bird on her?” I huff a laugh at Gage and his obsessive audacity. “Looks like someone’s got it bad. Thanks for the heads up, though. She’ll be easy to spot in a crowd.” I give him a playful swat to the stomach before taking off in her direction.
“Hey,” he barks, shouldering up to me. I pause in fear of dragging him along for the ride. I’d hate for Skyla to get caught up in his baby blues and get her hormones disorganized. “Don’t go shoving yourself down her throat.” He swallows hard as if he were going to threaten me but then aborted the effort. “Ellis is having a party tonight. We should hang out with her—see where it goes.” He squints into me with an earnestness I’m not used to seeing. “I’m into her.”
Shit.
I blink a smile at him. Poor, innocent, under-laid Gage. Although, I happen to fall into the under-laid category myself at the moment. “All right, listen. I’ll go over and ask Brielle to bring her to the party tonight. We’ll sit around in a big douchebag circle, and you can lead us into song. We’ll sing your favorite—‘Michael Row the Boat’, right?” I sock him in the arm, trying to keep things light. The thought of Gage and I battling over Skyla doesn’t sit right with me.
“Right.” He shoots me a dirty look before I take off.
Truth is, I don’t like Gage being so “into” Skyla. Gage is a great guy who happens to sport a face that apparently many a girl have wet their panties over, or so I’m told. Not the best combination when we’re both gunning for the same girl. I’ll have to remind him about all that destiny crap. Skyla is somebody’s destiny—and that “somebody” just so happens to be me.
I near the chattering circle of beautifully engineered estrogen, where Brielle is busy introducing Skyla to the res
t of the cheerleaders. Michelle Miller is snapping away at her gum, rife with attitude and anger. I’ve got something I need to borrow from Michelle, but I’ll save the grief of Chloe’s diary for later. I can tell by the way Michelle is standing, with her feet set in defiance, that she’s going to give Skyla a hard time. I’d better interject. Maybe if the girls see I’m interested, they’ll go easy on her.
Brielle is still busy shooting off introductions as I close in on them. The fog swirls around Skyla as if it were zeroing in on her. It bows to her feet as if venerating her beauty. I catch a glimpse of those perfectly tanned legs up close, and my entire body detonates with wanting. My heart thumps erratically, and my tongue swells twice its size at the thought of actually vocalizing in her presence.
“Hey.” I can barely push the word out.
She turns around and flashes a hotter-than-hell smile, and everything in me freezes.
Damn, she’s hot.
I toss an arm over her shoulder like some ancillary response. Maybe if I touch her I can get my body to stop pulsating like a racehorse slamming against the gate. I’ve never felt so nervous about talking to a girl in my life.
“Trying out for the team?” God, I hope. I’d pay to watch her shake that body.
“Yeah, I think so.” She follows my arm with her gaze, and her face lights up ten shades of red. Great. She’s going to think I’m a player, a perv. Although, for whatever reason, I can’t seem to let go.
Skyla looks up at me with those amazing pale blue eyes just this side of grey. She looks nervous, as if uncertain of where this conversation should go next.
“Morning.” She says it low, seductive, and my stomach bites with heat.
“Morning.” The word fumbles from my mouth. I have a feeling Skyla can draw anything from my lips she’d like to hear.
I glide my hand over her bare arm, and my boxers twitch at the touch of her skin. I keep staring at her, and I’m gonna have a really big problem right here, right now.
Her cheeks burn with the intensity of an inferno. God—I think I’m in love.
I gaze right into those pale blue puddles. Love?
Skyla goes rigid. Her eyes widen with horror. Shit! He heard me. I heard him, and he heard me. She jumps three feet away as if my arm was on fire.
She heard me.
Holy freaking shit.
I back my way toward the team in a daze and smack into Gage.
“Is she coming tonight?” He doesn’t bother taking his eyes off her and neither do I. Gage is as infatuated by Skyla as I am, and this can only end one way.
“Forgot to mention it,” I whisper. “I’ll call Bree later and make sure she shows.” I don’t tell him about her being one of us—one of me, to be exact.
It’s rare to find a Nephilim, even rarer to find a Celestra, if indeed she is one.
My stomach clenches when I think of the prophecy Gage shared the other day.
I gaze over at Skyla as Brielle leads her into a routine. This is the girl. This is my happily ever after standing right here on West’s soil, and it takes my breath away just thinking about it.
A shadow falls over me from the sky. Nevermore flies in a death spiral and lets out a scream that vibrates for miles.
Something is definitely going on here. It makes me wonder if Skyla’s sudden move to Paragon is a coincidence after all. If she is a Celestra—if she’s the girl that Gage prophesied about—this is going to be big. Either way, it doesn’t really matter.
I’ve already surrendered my heart to her.
Gage
The night of Ellis’s big hormonal bash, I spend an undue amount of time in front of the bathroom mirror, combing my hair for twenty minutes like a freaking girl, wondering what the hell Skyla sees in Logan that she doesn’t see in me.
I trot downstairs and pass Mom in the kitchen on my way to grab a soda.
“Going somewhere?” She takes a step back and travels over me with a look that lets me know she doesn’t approve of my dressed-to-impress attire.
I’ve donned a polo. I can’t remember the last time I put one of these on, let alone wore it into the mosh pit of Ellis’s living room.
“Just across the street.” I try to sound casual, as if I didn’t just spend forty minutes in front of my closet. I don’t ever remember caring what I wore to one of Ellis’s parties before, let alone taking a fresh shower and throwing some gel in my hair like I was headed to winter formal. But I’m pretty sure Skyla might show, and I damn well want her to notice me.
Dad walks in and pauses, his fingers securing his glasses like he’s about to inspect a corpse.
“What are we looking at Emma?” He gives a pleasant smile. His hair has almost completely gone to grey these last few months, no thanks to the financial troubles down at the morgue. Refinancing the house to keep the business afloat is never a good sign.
“Look at him. He’s all dolled up for a party.” Mom’s voice rises like we’re trapped in a fire.
“I’m not ‘dolled up.’” I refuse to entertain my mother’s effeminate descriptive.
Logan breezes into the room.
“Looks like Gage is aiming for the girls tonight.” He winks as he plucks the soda from my hand.
“Oh?” Dad raises his brows as if it were the last thing he expected. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem securing any number of ladies.” He gives a secret nod of approval. “Don’t stay out too late,” he adds, heading back to the family room before Mom can refute his comment on “securing the ladies.”
Mom twists her lips. Her mouth opens, and nothing but a series of choking sounds emit before she takes off. I guess she’s not as quick to encourage me with the “ladies,” but that’s to be expected. Mom has sweetly convinced herself she’s all the lady I need.
“You talk to Bree?” I snatch my drink back from Logan, who looks overly groomed himself.
“She’s bringing her.” He nods, examining me with a serious demeanor. “You know, there are plenty of other girls out there that would die if you gave them a chance. I hear there’s some chick from East who can’t stop talking about you.”
“I’ll pass.” We stare one another down, locked in a dead heat over where this conversation might lead. I’m sure as hell positive it’s not leading to some girl from East, unless of course, that’s where Skyla is going.
“Look”—he swallows hard—“I’ll land you Miller with a bow on top. You want Lexy? She’s been calling me all day—says she’s all hot and bothered with nowhere to blow. It’s a slam dunk. You’ll have your wick wet by midnight.”
“No, thanks.” I’m quick to shut down his indecent proposal. “I’m not interested in Michelle or Lexy. I’ve already turned them both down myself, so you can peel your ego off the ceiling.” I catch my reflection in the glass of the oven and run my fingers through my hair. “We’d better get going before Ellis tries to liquor her up.”
Logan folds his arms across his chest and gives a dissatisfied look at my inability to latch onto his “wick wetting” offer.
“I don’t want to see you hurt, man.” He whispers it low, with a look of sincerity. “Look, I gotta talk to your dad for a second. I’ll meet you over there.” He pats my back and heads out of the room.
As much as Logan likes to put on the tough guy act, he’s nothing but a marshmallow on the inside. He’s more like my brother than my uncle or cousin as the world likes to think. I’d do anything for him and vice versa, although I’m pretty sure he’s not gifting Skyla to me “with a bow” anytime soon.
I snatch my jacket from the entry and slip it on before heading outside.
Wet my wick by midnight.
I hold back a laugh.
Maybe it’s time I made some strides in that direction.
***
The driveway just across the street is choking with cars, not to mention a mile-long backlog up and down the road. The neighbors don’t really complain, so Ellis keeps the kegs flowing like some alcohol-laden fiduciary duty to both East and West High
alike.
My hands sweat as I hop up the porch and head inside where the walls are throbbing to the rhythm of some metal song. The decibel level is so loud my ears threaten to bleed. I make my way over to the great room, where the speakers aren’t parked directly overhead, and take in the scene as wall-to-wall bodies filter through the dimly lit room.
There she is. Skyla lights up the darkness like a flare.
The room sways. My heart skips about ten solid beats as our eyes lock for a brief second.
She offers a shy smile before Brielle steps into our line of vision.
Not that I mind. It’s not exactly like I wanted Skyla to see me staring at her from across the room, smiling like some hatchet murderer. Nothing like letting off some stalker vibes to get the night headed in the right direction. Everything in me knows I should go over and say something, but my heart is too busy trying to evict itself from my chest and my body refuses to move. I feel lightheaded just occupying the same air space as her—passing out seems pretty high on my body’s to-do list at the moment.
Brielle sways her hips and gyrates to the right, exposing the L.A. princess once again. Her long, golden hair catches what little light the room can afford, showing off a thousand soft spirals that crown her with glory. She’s wearing a skin-tight sweater and cutoff shorts that make her legs glow like burnished bronze. My mind drifts for a moment as I imagine those long, svelte limbs wrapped around my back like a vine, her body pressed against mine—nothing but skin on skin.
Some dude with a hairline that dips into a V stands next to her. He glares in this direction before reverting his attention back to Skyla.
Does she have a boyfriend? Judging by the way she was inspecting Logan at the bowling alley, I’d gather not—probably just some dude from East trying to get lucky.
Harrison pops up next to Brielle, and I can hear her squealing out an introduction. I’d better go over before he tries to inaugurate Skyla as a part of his ever-expanding circle of concubines.