Have you ever known someone for so long that your time together blurs? Like you don’t know where you start or where they end, but know that you've never spent a day of your life without that person in it?
Yeah, I had that once.
For ten years.
And then I lost it.
Because I forgot.
I forgot to remember her…
It started off like any other Thursday.
I woke up, worked out, ate breakfast, and went for a swim. I went to football practice, showered, and dragged my ass to class. I joked with the guys and flirted with the girls. I snoozed my way through most of my classes, ate lunch with my team, prepped for tonight's game with coach, and made plans to party afterwards.
Just a typical Thursday.
Nothing was different.
And then just like that, everything changed.
Struck fucking dumb, I had listened as what started out as an innocent conversation with my best friend about our plans for the night had morphed into a life-altering reality check.
"…Her name is Molly Peterson. She went to school with us until the third grade. You have the worst fucking memory, Daryl. She's the one whose mom and brother burned in that house fire when we were younger… Dude, she came back Sophomore year…"
Two words.
One name.
A lifetime of memories.
Rourke had dropped the bomb that I was sure was about to detonate and cause my world to implode around me.
Everything that was said since his revelation had gone clean over my head.
I couldn't register the words coming out of Rourke's mouth when we walked to my truck after school and climbed inside.
I couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing at all, which was probably why I almost pummeled both girls with my truck.
Even now, as I watched the girls pull out of their parking spot and join the line of traffic trying to exit the school, I couldn’t think straight.
My focus was locked on the blonde in the passenger seat of the convertible.
Jesus Christ.
She was back.
And I never realized.
I was seeing her now, though, and it cut like a knife.
Molly-Dolly.
"Fuck," I croaked out, feeling my stomach bottom out, body tensing at the sight of her. She didn’t look back at me, and I was glad. I didn’t want anyone seeing the level of guilt I was currently drowning in.
"She fucking hates me." My best friend's laugh infiltrated my thoughts – hell, never mind infiltrating, he goddamn spoke my thoughts aloud – and I flinched.
Four words.
She fucking hates me.
Yeah, that sounded about right.
Looking up, I spotted Mercy James edging her sweet ride towards the jammed exit. She was steering the car with one hand, while flipping Rourke off with the other.
"That's right, Six," Rourke purred, using the pet name he'd given her. "Flip me off, baby. I'll put those hands to good use later." He returned her middle-fingered gesture and continued to revel in his victory, completely unaware of the inner turmoil I was drowning in.
Of course, I knew why the douche was currently sporting a shit-eating grin. After months of verbal warfare, not to mention unbearable sexual tension, he'd finally persuaded his stepsister to get under him.
Both literally and figuratively.
That's right.
My best friend was banging his own damn sister now.
"Is it bad that I want to choke her out almost as much as I want to get inside her?" Rourke asked, watching her car as she finally pulled out of sight "Fuck, she's beyond temptation, man."
"Y'all are toxic as fuck," I offered, unable to garner any enthusiasm for the sudden development in his sex life. "Sissy's as likely to cut your balls off as she is to open her legs for you."
My words of warning didn’t seem to deter Rourke. In fact, he looked downright delighted with himself. "I know." He grinned devilishly. "That's what makes her so damn interesting."
Dysfunctional asshole.
"You've got mommy issues, dude." Running a hand through my hair, I flicked on my blinker and pulled into line. "Seriously," I added. "You need Jesus."
"Nah. It's too late for me to repent, dude. Besides, I'm not sorry and I've already booked my ticket to hell," Rourke said breezily. "On another note, I can't believe you didn’t realize Molly was back in town." He shook his head. "Y'all were tight as fuck when we were kids."
I couldn’t believe it either.
And I hadn't just been tight with Molly Peterson; I'd spent my every waking hour with the girl until I was ten.
We'd grown up together until the night she left.
And you forgot her.
I shook my head, recoiling in both shame and horror.
How the fuck did a person do that?
How had she managed to walk around my school for two years without me noticing?
Was I that fucking obtuse?
Jesus, this was screwing with my head.
Messing me up real bad.
Memories of another lifetime flooded me and the pain was severe, like being winded to the point of passing out…
I hated going to church. Sitting in the pew beside my mama and sissy, I folded my arms across my chest and glared straight ahead. Dressed in my Sunday finest, I felt like a tool. I hated the navy sportscoat I'd been forced to wear, but not nearly as much as I hated the man whose hand my mother was holding.
Laurence 'Wren' Chambers, deputy sheriff of Ocean Bay, and my new daddy.
Puke.
I hated that man and I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.
Rourke's dad didn’t force him to go to church. Heck, my best friend didn’t have to do a dang thing he didn’t want to do. Not me, though. Nope, I was dragged here by Wren every Sunday – some days kicking and screaming.
Jerk.
The preacher continued to drone on about the importance of family and my lip curled up in disgust.
I had no time for fairytales and lies.
Besides, from my brief experience with the world, I was well aware that families were well and truly overrated – and fickle.
Just ask Rourke.
His mama had passed when we were little and his daddy had been steadily replacing her ever since. I couldn’t recall if Gabe Owens was on wife number four or five by now. I'd stopped counting after number three.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a paper airplane whizzed past my head before coming to an abrupt stop when it crashed against the back of Mr. Lambert in the row ahead of my family.
Excitement soared to life inside of me and I quickly snatched up the paper plane, unable to stop myself from smirking.
Her aim was getting better.
A low snicker came from behind us, and that somehow earned me a sharp elbow in the ribs from my loving stepdad.
Asshole.
Jaw ticking, I swallowed down my anger – and the urge to hit the douche back twice as hard – before inconspicuously unfolding the paper plane.
Play with me?
Three words penned in her neat handwriting.
Three dangerous words that were sure to get me in a world of trouble with Wren, but somehow, I didn’t care.
She was worth it.
I counted to ten and then slowly back to five before rising to my feet with my hand pressed to my mouth, feigning sickness. My mother's concerned gaze landed on mine, right along with Wren's look of incredulity. Fully aware that I was a piss poor actor and not giving two shits whether they believed me or not, I gestured to the exit before quickly bolting.
The moment I pushed through the church doors and stepped outside in the mid-morning sunshine, she was on me.
Pouncing onto my back like a playful kitten, she clasped her small hands over my eyes and giggled in my ear. The smell of flowers and grass filled my nose and a small shiver ripped through my body. "Guess who?"
"The man in the moon," I replied, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face, as I reached up and peeled her small hands away from my eyes.
"Nope." Molly jumped down, landing gracefully on her small feet before pirouetting on the spot, causing her short, yellow sundress to blow up in the breeze, revealing her matching yellow panties.
Donning a smile that had been causing me some problems as of late, she grinned up at me and I felt my face grow hot. "Guess again."
My stomach twisted up in knots and I wanted to be mad at her for making it do that. Again. Maybe hanging around with her wasn’t such a good idea anymore, but I liked it.
I liked how she made me feel.
I liked the calm she brought to my life when I spent time with her.
Besides, she was the only one who stopped the noise in my head.
She was the only one who stopped the anger in my heart.
Stifling my secrets, I shook my head and reached for her hand. "Come on. Let's bounce before he sees us." If Wren came outside to check on me and found me coercing with the enemy's daughter, I would be toast. Lately, our parents hadn't been getting along, and I had been given strict instructions to stay away from the Peterson girl. Too late for that.
"Don’t worry." She placed her small hand in mine and squeezed. "I'll protect you from Wretched."
Wretched was Molly's nickname for my stepfather and I loved her for it. She was the only person in this town that saw him for what he really was. Not the good, wholesome family man that had generously taken on a little boy that wasn’t his, but an asshole bully.
Breaking into a run, our feet pounded the sidewalk, neither one of us stopping until we reached the sandy beach at the back of Rourke's sprawling property. He was already in the water, lazing on his surfboard, and looking like someone had pissed in his cornflakes.
Nothing new there.
Breathless and laughing, we broke apart on the sand with only one task in mind; getting in the water.
Making a point to turn my back when Molly yanked her dress over her head, I quickly peeled off the clothes I'd been forced into wearing earlier this morning, feeling more relaxed with every layer that I tore from my body.
When I was down to my boxers, I turned back to face her and frowned.
I was tall for ten, but Molly was ridiculously small. She barely reached my shoulder in height and she had itty-bitty muscles.
Dainty is the word my mama once used to describe my best friend and I agreed.
She was dainty.
Like a doll.
Molly-Dolly.
Wearing a pair of yellow panties and a plain white tank, she looked up at me and gave me a huge, megawatt smile. Her body was lean and tanned, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief, as her long, golden hair splayed in the light summer breeze. "You ready, D?"
Her voice was soft and sweet, and even though I knew she was far from a girly-girl, I couldn’t help thinking that hers was the nicest girl's voice I'd ever heard.
"Well?" she pushed me with a laugh, before lunging for my back. In one fell swoop, she was on me, arms and legs locked around my waist and neck, making everything inside of me grow hot and confused.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I quickly shook my head, forcing the strange feelings out of my mind, before breaking into a run for the shoreline.
"Don’t drop me!" she giggled, as she buried her face in the crook of my neck.
Laughing, I tightened my hold on her thighs and leapt over the waves until I was waist deep in the ocean. Only then did I dunk us both under the water, thoroughly amused with how quickly she let go of my body in her search for the surface.
When we both crashed above the waves, we were face to face again. "Looking a little wet there, Molls." I grinned, not bothering to push my hair out of my eyes. I could see her well enough. That was good enough for me. "Hell, you look like a drowned rat."
"You big jerk," she spluttered between fits of laughter. Her hair was caked to her face in drenched clumps. "Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" Narrowing her eyes in challenge, she dove for me, splashing and kicking in the water as she moved. "Let's see how you like being dunked, Daryl King!"
Feeling playful, I let her push me beneath the surface and then I moved for her legs.
"No, no, no –"
Bursting out of the water, I threw her into the air, watching as her hands and legs splayed out helplessly. Moments later, she landed in the water, sinking beneath the foamy waves crashing against us.
"Oh, you're a dead man!" She half-coughed/half-spluttered, swimming towards me. "I'm gonna kick your butt!"
"I'm shaking in my boots, Molly-Dolly," I taunted, dodging her pounce only to be toppled over by a wave. Dammit.
Moments later, she was on me, wrestling my big body with her little one in a valiant effort to make good on her promise to kill me. "I told you not to call me that," she growled, trying in vain to pin me in a headlock with her skinny arms. "King doofus."
"Keep it up and I'm gonna pants you," I laughed, reaching for her waist. "I mean it, little girl. I don't give two shits what you've got under there –"
"Try it, jerk face," she dared right back, legs locking around my waist, as she dug her claws into my nipple. "I will purple nurple you so hard, you'll be milking like a dang cow!"
"Y'all make me sick," Rourke drawled, paddling over on his board to where we were playfighting in the water. When he reached us, he sat on his board and leaned back on his elbows with legs still in the water, looking entirely unimpressed with our game. "You crushing on your sidekick now, D?"
"I ain't his sidekick," Molly replied, splashing him in the face.
Feeling embarrassed, I quickly pushed away from her. I wasn't sure what I was doing with Molly, but I was one hundred percent sure that I didn’t want to talk about it with him. "No," I finally replied when I had put some space between us. "It ain't like that."
"Then why's she here?" Rourke asked in his usual no-nonsense tone.
"Don’t be a dick, Owens," I warned, gaze flicking between my two best friends. "She's our friend."
"She's your friend," he corrected. "She ain't mine."
"Because you don’t want friends, Rourke Owens," Molly spat back. "You're only happy when you're mad at the world."
"You can leave now." His steel blue eyes flicked to Molly. "Seriously. I don’t want you here."
Molly's face turned a bright shade of red and I knew she was about two seconds away from bolting.
"What's your problem, Rourke?" Narrowing my eyes, I glared at the prickliest person I'd ever known. He was my best friend and that meant I would do almost anything for him, but I wouldn’t let him take out his temper on her. Never her. "You having problems at home again? Fair enough, but don’t take your shit out on her."
"It's okay, Daryl –"
"No, it ain't, Molls," I snapped, pushing my hair out of my eyes. "Far from it." When she moved to wade back to the shoreline, I snaked a hand out and pulled her back to me. "You ain't going anywhere, Molly." Draping a protective arm around her shoulders, I glared at my best friend. "Maybe she's not your friend, but she sure as hell is mine so show some damn respect."
Rourke and I had a solid sixty second stare down before he blew out a breath and dropped his gaze. "Shit, you're right."
Victory.
I knew I was right.
I also knew that he was going through hell right now.
Still didn’t give him the right to put tears in Molly's eyes.
Looking thoroughly defeated now, Rourke flicked his hard gaze to Molly and offered her a half-hearted shrug. "You can stay."
It was the closest thing to an apology she was going to get and we all knew it. Rourke had sharp edges and I seemed to be the only person in this entire town that could navigate said edges without getting cut.
"He's getting married again," came his blunt revelation a few moments later, pinpointing the reason for his hostile behavior.
"Your dad?" Molly asked softly.
Rourke nodded slowly, not lifting his gaze. "It's a fucking joke."
"Yeah," I agreed with a sigh.
"At least your daddy doesn’t make you go to church," Molly offered with a small smile.
"Yeah, thank fuck for that," Rourke chuckled humorlessly.
I snorted. "At least neither one of y'all have to live with Wretched."
No one said anything after that.
They both knew I had them trumped…
"You okay, D?" Rourke asked, stirring me from my memories. "Shit, you're as pale as a ghost, man."
"No," I admitted with a groan, body trembling from head to toe. "I've never been further from okay in my life."
Rourke turned to face me, concern laced in his blue eyes. "Shit." A furious growl escaped him and his gaze honed in on the faded bruise on my left cheekbone. "The fuck did he do this time?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" With a deep scowl, he gave me the mandatory once over, eyes narrowed as he completed his usual stock-take of bruises. It was a wasted effort when I was fully clothed in my damn uniform. "Yeah. Another fucking nothing, D."
"Stop doing that," I snapped, when I couldn’t take his stare another minute. "I'm fine."
"I'll fuck him up," Rourke vowed, hands balling into fists on his lap "I swear, man, I don’t give a damn if he's the law or not. I'll beat his damn ass –"
"Forget it, Rourke." I shook my head and glared out the windshield. "Wren's not the problem." This time.
"Well, I'm sending Millie over tonight," he shot back. "If you aren't gonna talk then she can be my eyes." Amelia, or Millie for short, was Rourke's younger sister. She also happened to be my little sister's best friend. "And if he starts his crap with you –"
"Nothing is happening at home," I bit out, beyond agitated.
"Then what's the damn problem?" He reached forward and switched off the stereo. "I'm listening, Daryl."
"I fucked up, man. I fucked up real bad."
"Okay…" He hesitated before adding, "I'm all ears."
"I didn’t know," I choked out, my words a torn admission from somewhere deep inside of me. "I didn’t fucking know, man."
"Didn’t know what?"
"She's been here… and I didn’t…" Exhaling heavily, I let my shoulders sag, feeling the weight of my secrets pressing down hard on my conscience. "Fuck."
Rourke was a smart guy so I knew it wouldn’t take him long to figure out what my underlying issue was.
The moment realization flashed in his eyes, I felt a surge of panic flood my body.
"Molly," was all he said.
I exhaled a ragged breath and nodded stiffly. "Molly."