The Wayward Sons: (Book 4) Starlee's Hope Read online

  “Are you sure there’s nothing else I’m good at?” His hand runs down my arm, taunting, teasing.

  “I don’t know,” I say, turning to face him. The quilt falls to the wayside and his eye dart down. “Maybe you could show me?”

  It doesn’t take much to turn on an eighteen-year-old male, but I’ve learned taunting this one has the best results. He obliges, mouth crushing mine, hands wrapping around my waist as he centers me over his lap. The heat between us grows, consumes.

  And I let him show me exactly what he’s good at, the very least being an incredible boyfriend.

  6

  Dexter

  “Did you get everything delivered?” Mrs. Jones asks as I walk into the house. She’s reading a book on the stuffed chair in the corner—the one directly under a giant painting of wings George made for Sierra. Castiel’s angel wings, obviously. The front of the book says something about finding your passion and two others on the coffee table have the same theme. There’s also one about writing the best college applications that I definitely don’t ask about.

  “Yep, got them all dropped off.”

  She smiles up at me. “I bet that’s a relief.”

  “It is.” I walk toward the hallway, knowing I should feel a little more guilty about what I’d just been doing with her daughter, but I’m not. I love Starlee and we’re responsible. “Thanks for helping with the database though. It made everything a lot easier.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I’m able to put some of my skills to use around here. We both know making coffee isn’t one of them.”

  I laugh. She’s right. Coffee-making is strangely outside her wheelhouse.

  “You’re going next door tonight? To watch your show?”

  Ah, Supernatural night. I almost forgot. We’d had a group meeting after Sierra left about how we wanted to handle it. It seemed strange at first, continuing a tradition without her, but then George made the observation that it’s much like the patriarchs leaving the show itself. Parental figures, fill-in adults, family and friends all come and go, and the Winchester boys still move forward.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I need to shower first.”

  She rolls her eyes. “If there’s any hot water left. I think Jake’s been in there for an hour already.”

  I don’t tell Mrs. Jones but I’m pretty sure Jake’s showers are cold and not hot, but she’s not used to raising boys. I can tell almost everything we do confuses her. At first, I thought she’d be strict like she’d been with Starlee. We were prepared for it, everyone in agreement to just go along with it for the next few months. We didn’t really have an option and we were all grateful she’d stepped in. Ultimately, she’d surprised us, pretty much leaving us on our own—and giving her daughter a little space. After the last few months it was a welcome reprieve, and we all just tried our hardest to behave and stay out of trouble.

  I take the stairs two at a time and walk down the hall. “Hey,” I say, standing in Charlie’s doorway. George is in the seat next to him getting his butt kicked in some RPG game. “You guys headed over to Mrs. Nye’s in a bit?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie says, barely looking up. “We’ll be ready.”

  “Die, sucker!” George shouts, jerking around his seat. A quick glance at the screen shows me George’s player just got his head lopped off. “Dammit!”

  I leave them to it and walk across the hall, banging on the closed bathroom door. “Hurry up, dude, I need a shower.”

  The door jerks open. There’s shaving cream on Jake’s chin and he’s shirtless, wearing just athletic shorts. I’m definitely into girls, but Jake’s body is seriously a work of art. If anything, it makes me a little insecure knowing Starlee has this as a comparison. Well, she should. The tight set of Jake's shoulders, the countless hours running and working out along with his unbearable attitude is making me think something’s up. That and the fact Starlee has mentioned hiking with Jake more than once lately. In the summer I’d think this was code for them having sex in the woods, but the winter? He’d freeze his balls off.

  “I’m finished,” he says, wiping off his chin.

  “Thanks.” I push past him, already taking off my T-shirt. His eyes flick to my collarbone and that muscle tics in his jaw. I glance in the mirror and touch the fresh red mark left by Starlee’s mouth.

  When I look back to Jake he’s gone—his bedroom door closing with a snap. I turn on the water and run my hand beneath it. Sure enough, there’s plenty of heat—confirming my suspicions. I drop my pants and shorts, dunking myself under the steamy heat.

  When I walk out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, the twins haven’t moved, and Jake’s door is still shut. I head to my room, changing into a clean pair of jeans and pulling a flannel over my shirt.

  “You guys ready to head next door?” I call down the hall, tugging on a boot.

  There’s some kind of commotion from Charlie’s room but they both emerge a bit bleary-eyed and head down the stairs. Jake’s room is directly across from mine and his opens just as I step into the hall. We stand across from one another.

  “Dude, what’s going on?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  Second time I’ve heard that today. “Look, I’m here if you want to talk about, uh, it. You know, stuff.”

  Starlee isn’t something we discuss like this. It feels disrespectful, but we’ve also agreed that our relationship involves all of us, which can complicate things if one person is having an issue.

  He shuts me down anyway. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  I follow him down the stairs. “Are you mad?” I keep my voice low. Mrs. Jones is down the hall. “About the hickey?”

  If looks could kill. “Dexter, stop. I’m not mad.”

  “Then what?”

  He doesn’t respond as we walk down the hall. George and Charlie have the food we’re bringing over and we start toward the door.

  “Have fun,” Mrs. Jones calls, glancing up from her book.

  “Sure you don’t want to come?” George asks.

  “Nah, you guys have your thing. I’ve never been much for TV.”

  “We’ll be back early,” Jake says, getting his attitude in check for her. At least there’s that.

  I close the door behind us and the four of us walk down the steps and into the yard.

  “Are you going to answer me?” I say, not ready to let this go. I’m not sure why it’s bothering me so much. Maybe it’s because things are going well for me right now, really well, and I want to make sure Jake’s doing okay. That I’m not missing something.

  “What are you two bitching about?” George asks, stopping in the driveway.

  “Dex is trying to probe into my emotions or some bullshit,” Jake says. “And he won’t let it drop.”

  “Well, you have been a little cranky lately,” George says, sliding his eyes to Jake. Charlie takes a step back in case his brother is about to get body-slammed for that comment. I don’t blame him. I’m not the only one with a temper around here. George, of course, doesn’t stop. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing’s up.”

  “It’s about Starlee,” I blurt. “They’re not—”

  “Don’t say it,” Jake warns.

  My intention is clear.

  “Ever?” George asks, looking at me.

  I shrug. Charlie shifts uncomfortably. I’m not sure he and Starlee have had sex either, but it’s not as much of a surprise. And he’s not the one acting like a dick, anyway.

  “For Christ’s sake.” Jake starts toward the house, his broad shoulders tense. “You’re just a bunch of gossips.”

  “No wonder he’s wound up,” George says, following him up the path. We’re nearing the porch when I spot Jake coming back down the steps, hand running through his hair. He stops before us.

  “You know what my problem is?”

  “Well, yeah, now we do,” George says. That kid is always looking for a beatdown. “But it’s chill. You’re not ready. Or she’s not. Right?
”

  “Of course I’m ready,” he replies in a low voice. We’re just outside the house. “You heard her mom the other day. Starlee’s headed to some southern Ivy League college. I looked it up. It’s hard to get into. Expensive. The kind of school I could never get into.”

  Charlie frowns. “What are you talking about? You want to go with her?”

  Jake shakes his head. “No, but hearing about that school, it just kind of confirms how smart she is. How she’s got big things ahead—more than hanging out with a dumb jock. I just…I want to be better for her. Smarter. I want her to be proud of me.”

  I try to follow his train of thought. “You think she’s not?”

  “Why would she be? You guys all have something real—something you can count on. Dexter, you’re a freaking genius in the kitchen—you’re going to build an empire. Charlie can probably hack into the Pentagon and George is an amazingly talented artist. I can barely read. College is only an option because of football. If I get hurt or they decide they don’t need me? I’m screwed.” He swallows. “She deserves better.”

  “So,” George says, massaging his temples, “if I’m following this right, what you’re saying is you’re not having sex with Starlee because you’re not good enough for her?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “That’s total bullshit, dude,” the twin says. “Like ridiculous. Does she know this?”

  “No!” He grimaces and looks over his shoulder. In a lower voice he says, “Don’t you fucking tell her, either.”

  Part of me wants to punch him in the face and tell him to get over it. But there’s another part, the kid barely off of probation that understands what it’s like not to feel worthy. I nod. “We won’t say anything, but you need to get your head on straight. If she knew about this, she’d be pissed.”

  “Yeah, well that’s between me and her.”

  The creak of the front door pulls our attention to the porch and the light flips on. Starlee appears, barefoot in the doorway. “What are you doing out here?” Her arms cross for warmth. “It’s freezing.”

  “I was about to show everyone how I can clear all of those steps in one leap,” George says, pointing to the six steps ahead.

  Starlee’s eyes widen. “Don’t let him do that.”

  “We won’t,” Charlie says, grabbing his brother. They walk up the steps, each stopping to give Starlee a hug and get into the warmth of the house.

  “Hey,” I say to Jake, before we hit the steps, “you know that’s not how any of us see you, right?”

  “Maybe,” he shrugs and bounds up the stairs. All the self-doubt washes away when he meets our girl, holding back that part of himself for her.

  With my hands in my pockets, I walk up the steps. Starlee takes one look at me and touches my cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  I bend to kiss her, quickly brushing my lips against hers. It’s my turn to reply, “nothing,” and head into the house like everything and everyone is okay.

  7

  Starlee

  “Can someone grab that bunch of balloons?” I call from the top of the ladder. We’re almost done with decorating the community center gym for the dance that starts in thirty minutes. Claire grabs the knot of ribbon and brings it over. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” She pushes her bangs out of her face. “Maybe a little lower?”

  I adjust the balloons. It’s a little archway over the door. “How’s that?”

  She gives me two thumbs up. “Perfect. You’d never know you haven’t been to a school dance before.”

  “Hey!” I say, carefully climbing down the steps. “I went to the spring dance in the sixth grade.”

  “Oh really? How was that?”

  I look around the room. “A lot like this, honestly. We didn’t have dates—just went as a pack, although if Marcus Center had invited me to dance, I would have died.”

  “Cute?”

  “Very.” I shake my head at the memory. I hadn’t thought much about those days in a long time. Everything in the past seems so murky compared to my time here. “That was before things kind of fell apart for me at school.”

  Margaret and Jake stand in the middle of the room supporting a ladder while Dexter secures a mirrored ball to the ceiling. Dex had agreed to go up but only if George stayed clear. Everyone agreed. He and Charlie are up on the stage setting up the music.

  “You about ready to get dressed?” Claire asks. We’d stashed our clothes in a room down the hall. Margaret made it clear we were all supposed to look nice to make the kids feel comfortable since they were supposed to dress up, too.

  “Yep.” I toss the tape and string into a box at the bottom of the ladder and pick it up.

  “Hey, Starlee,” a voice calls. I look back and see Jasper. “I’ll take that box and put it with the other stuff.”

  I hand it over. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  Claire and I walk out of the gym down the hall, passing a bunch of classrooms. “So, you guys have meetings here and stuff?”

  “Yeah.” Claire leads me to the room. “You’d be surprised how many kids are out there struggling with their sexuality. It’s nice to give them a place to hang out and feel safe. I didn’t really have anything like that.”

  “When did you come out?”

  “When I told Christina and Jake.” She laughs darkly. “You saw how that turned out.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to be your friend then.”

  “Yeah it seems like maybe the two of us could have used better friends, back in the day.”

  We change quickly and head into the bathroom to use the mirror. My dress is white with a sheer overlay. Tiny flowers are embroidered into the see-through fabric.

  “You look like a fairy,” Claire says. Her dress is black, made out of a fake leather that fits her like a glove yet is still totally appropriate. I’m jealous of my friend’s daring style. While I may look like a fairy, she just looks like a gorgeous badass.

  I swipe a little mascara on my eyelashes and Claire hands me her lipstick. “Try this.”

  It’s a deep red, way bolder than I usually would wear—if I wore any at all—but I decide to take the fashion risk. Why not? Tonight is all about fun.

  I’m just finishing up when the door swings open. Christina walks in wearing a sparkly pink dress. She keeps her expression even. I try to do the same but Claire makes no effort to hide her annoyance.

  “Margaret sent me in here to tell you the kids are arriving.”

  “Great,” I say. “Thanks.”

  Claire takes my bag. “I’ll go put this up. Meet you in the gym?”

  “Sure.”

  She breezes past both me and Christina, which leaves the two of us alone. Perfect.

  “I like your dress,” I say, hating the awkward silence.

  “I got it at an amazing boutique in San Francisco.”

  I struggle not to roll my eyes. “It looks great.” We near the gym door. “Look, I’ve been wanting to thank you for what you did at New Years. It helped a lot.”

  Her lips form a thin line. “Lucky for you, I hate abusive drunks.”

  The way she says it makes it seem like she knows from experience. “If you hadn’t come forward, all of the guys would have been in serious trouble. Especially Dexter.”

  Her small hand grips the door. “I know you may think I don’t know the difference between right and wrong, but I do, Starlee. I wasn’t about to let that jerk get away with beating up a bunch of teenagers.”

  I swallow back a retort about how all of it started when she squealed on me and the boys for staying at Dexter’s cabin during the snow storm, but hold it in. “Anyway, thanks.”

  I don’t get a “you’re welcome” just an annoyed eyeroll as she enters the gym. Claire comes up behind me. “Is everything okay? I shouldn’t have left you alone with her. That was a dick move. She just makes me so mad.”

  “No. It’s fine.” I smooth down my dress. “Ready to head
in?”

  “Yep, let’s go show those kids how to have a good, totally substance-free, good time.”

  I laugh and follow my friend into the cavernous room. The lights are off, other than a few spotlights shining from the stage. They strike against the disco ball, which sends a ray of reflection through the room. In the shadowy room the streamer and balloons don’t look so pathetic, but all that fades anyway as I see the four boys standing across the room. My four boys, looking handsome and clean. My heart ricochets in my chest.

  “God, to have one person look at me like that,” Claire mutters but there’s a small smile on her face. That’s why she’s a good friend. She gets us.

  “Whatever, you know your girl loves you.”

  She smiles in that way only a person in love can. “She really does.”

  I’m watching them watch me. It’s like a moment in a movie. Where the girl sees the guy she’s head over heels for, but instead of one guy it’s four guys and my heart thunders in proportion. Like, it’s drumming, loud and echoing in my ears. I feel a tug on my sleeve and pull away. I want them. They want me. And we’re going to meet under that disco ball and dance the night away.

  “Starlee!”

  “Huh?”

  The pounding sound grow louder and I realize it’s not in my chest. It’s against the hardwood floor and created not by my heart but children’s footsteps as they stampeded into the room.

  “You may want to get out of the way,” Claire says, giving me a weird look. “And I think Margaret needs some help by the door.”

  I blink and see the boys scattering. Charlie goes straight to the stage to mess with the music and the other guys doing whatever it is Margaret told them to.

  Once everyone has entered and the music is playing and punch is in cups and cupcakes are consumed, the most typical of all typical things happen.

  The boys head to one side of the gym and the girls to the other.