Fletcher( Boys of HGU #1) Read online

Page 2


  He didn’t realise how much I needed him, he couldn’t have, and I couldn’t blame him for not wanting anything to do with me.

  He was my constant growing up.

  The one I met first after I moved to Hillgrove with my mom after she remarried, he was the one who sat with me that first day at school, the one to introduce me to Colt and Decker and then Tyler.

  He didn’t know it but my little twelve-year-old self fell a little bit in love with him those first few weeks. My crush on him lasted for years, until I turned fifteen and I realised he didn’t look at me the same way. After that, Tyler and I grew close and we started dating the summer before our Sophomore year of high school. I still needed Fletcher, he was my best friend and that didn’t change.

  My senior year of high school, something in Fletch changed, I noticed things, how he acted around me, the way he looked at me.

  That night, the very same one that changed everything, I had a plan. A plan that would rattle the structure of our little group and it was my biggest secret. My darkest secret that not a soul on this earth knew about except for one person. One that still eats me up at night.

  I swallow thickly as Decker hands Fletcher his beer and I glance at the clock.

  “Right, gotta head back to work,” I say a bit too chipper. I still had ten minutes of my break left but I couldn’t stand here for much longer.

  “Catch us after your shift,” Deck kisses my head, “We’re staying for a few hours.”

  I shouldn’t be surprised that he knew I was on earlies tonight, my shift ending at nine rather than midnight, both Colt and Decker had taken it upon themselves to become what can only be described as big brother protective.

  I nod and head to the back.

  “You’ve still got ten minutes,” Daisy says from her position near the dishwasher.

  “You could use the help,” I shrug, tying my apron on again over my denim jeans and black Chucks polo. I hang back long enough for the guys to move away from the bar and then get to work clearing the queue waiting to be served.

  A group of girls have descended on a table towards the back where the pool tables are and I can almost guarantee who has occupied that space. I see Decker first, basking in the attention and then Colt, shaking his head with a smirk on his mouth and then I see Fletcher. A little blonde has tucked herself against his side, her manicured fingers stroking up his bicep whilst she whispers into his ear.

  A pang of jealousy stirs in my gut and I grit my teeth as I move onto the next guy waiting at the bar.

  “Hey, I know you,” the guy at the bar hollers over the music. I drag my eyes from the guys and meet the chocolate brown eyes of a guy from the team, one I’ve seen around but never spoken to. “You’re that chick that hangs with Decker and Colt.”

  I cock a brow, “yeah?”

  “I’m Ash,” he shoves a hand over the bar, giving me a charming smile that shows off a set of bright white teeth. He’s cute, in that boyish, boy next door kind of way, lithe in build with floppy blond hair.

  “Peyton,” I take his hand for a quick shake, “What can I get you?”

  “Just a beer,” he says.

  I feel his eyes on me as I pop the cap on a bottle and slide it towards him, my eyes straying to take in the scene at the back of the bar. She may as well be on his lap with how close she’s sat to him but to my surprise Fletcher doesn’t look interested. His eyes suddenly bounce to me, clashing with mine and freezing me in place. I’m vaguely aware that Ash is speaking to me but I’m too lost in the sudden staring contest I don’t hear any words, it’s more like I’ve stepped into a wind tunnel and all that’s happening is a fierce howl and the blood pumping furiously through my veins. How sad is it that this is the most contact I’ve had with him in the past few years?

  “Hey!” Ash calls, suddenly bringing me from my frozen state, “Did you hear me?”

  “Uh,” I swallow, “Sorry, no, what did you say?”

  “I said, you’re a tutor right?”

  “Part time, yes.”

  “You got space?”

  “You’ll have to sign up,” I tell him, looking back to Fletcher to find him talking with Colt, “at the student centre.”

  “Cool thanks,” Ash smiles, “can I request you?”

  I frown but nod my head, “yes you can.”

  “Awesome,” he slaps his palm on the bar, “see you around Peyton.”

  When it comes to the end of my shift a few hours later I’m not surprised to see the crowd around the guys table has almost doubled in size and is louder than the music. Girls laugh whilst the guys holler and shout for more shots to be had and I’m half tempted to cut and run but Decker spots me before I can make my big escape, hopping up from his seat and crossing the bar.

  “You’re not running out on us, now are you, Peyton?” He raises a brow, daring me to lie.

  “I was uh,” I bite my lip, “I was actually gonna head home to study.”

  “It’s Friday night, babe, live a little.”

  I purse my lips as he wiggles his brows playfully but in the end, he wins, it’s hard to say no to a man like Decker and I follow him back to the table. He drags me into the seat next to him and then Colt slides in besides me, cushioning me between the two of them. The girls at the table eye me warily, calculating the distance between me and the two guys beside me, not realizing clearly how very platonic my relationship with the two of them is.

  Truth be told, this whole thing wasn’t my scene. I was all for hanging with the guys, they were my best friends after all but this crowd, the rowdy football guys, and the girls that follow, I just didn’t want to deal with the drama.

  I used to be more outgoing, I guess I also changed after that night, perhaps it wasn’t for the better.

  Three

  If I have to watch Ash come on to Peyton for one more second, I swear to all that is above, I will destroy him. He’s shameless in his attempts to get her to go out with him, touching her arm from across the table, trying his luck with asking for her number. I watch Decker and Colt, their eyes narrowed on the junior who’s been stripping her out of her clothes with his eyes for the past hour. I mean that shit just doesn’t sit right.

  Regardless of the situation, and who she is or isn’t anymore, she deserves better than Ash. He’s especially known for his playboy ways, having a different girl on his arm every week.

  Ash reaches forward again, grabbing her arm as she talks to Mara, Colt’s current interest. As she tries to snatch her arm back Ash’s grip tightens.

  He must be fucking stupid.

  We all move at the same time.

  I grab Ash’s collar from the nape, jerking him back, hard, whilst Decker grips his hand in his fist, squeezing tight enough for the knuckles to crack and Colt has stood, unfolding himself to his full six-foot three height.

  “Get your fucking hand off her before I break it,” Decker growls menacingly.

  Slowly, Ash uncurls his fingers, still trapped in Deck’s vice like grip, his jaw tight. His brown eyes turn hard.

  I knew better than to believe the guy would give up easily. I’d seen his play out on the field, the guy was a titan, he went after what he wanted, and he very rarely lost, I had a feeling this would be no different. We had basically just laid down the gauntlet.

  Fuck.

  “Easy now,” Ash grinds out, “Just getting the ladies attention. I didn’t realise she was taken.”

  “Not taken but no less off limits.” Decker tells him.

  Peyton groans loudly, “Seriously? I am sat right here!”

  “What is she? Your sister?” Ash laughs, bringing his hand to his chest after Deck releases it.

  “Something like that,” Decker says, ignoring Peyton’s protests.

  I’m watching her though, my hand free from Ash’s shirt. Her cheeks warm, flushing a pretty pink as her eyes bounce around the table, meeting everyone’s shocked stares. It’s not the norm to have the protection of some of the best football players and that’s obvio
us in the way the girls especially are watching her. Some envious. Others awed.

  She pulls her dark, glossy hair around her face like a curtain, tucking her chin to her chest to hide her face behind the waves. Her eyes are downcast, the blue vibrant in the frame of thick, dark lashes and her pouty pink lips pursed.

  I find myself studying her features, much like I had all these years, my eyes tracing the lines of her face, the slightly upturned nose, the lines of her cheekbones, high and defined in her long, oval shaped face, the contour of her lips, how the bottom one is plush and plump whilst the top is perfectly curved into a cupids bow.

  There’s a scar in her hair line, to the right on her forehead, one she got when we were playing around at the park and she fell from a tree and hit her head against a branch that was jutting out. One that’s so well hidden by the mane of thick, glossy dark hair that most people don’t realise it’s there. But I do.

  As if sensing my eyes, she looks up to meet my gaze and for the life of me I can’t look away.

  This is the closest I’ve been to her in what feels like forever and I’m finding myself wanting more, needing more of her presence, even if it’s from across the table.

  For so long her presence has brought on a string of bad memories, nightmares, grief but tonight, I’m simply, curious.

  Does that make me a bad person?

  That I’m curious about Tyler’s girl?

  This isn’t the first time though is it? No, no, that would be simple. This feeling, the tightness in my chest, it started way before, long before that particular night and it’s a thought, a feeling that I’ll forever keep buried inside my chest.

  I guess it’s part of the reason I’ve stayed away from her for so long. Because it’s wrong for this to be a thing. Wrong for me to have this…feeling in my body.

  I force my eyes away from her face, shoving the thoughts way down where they can’t see the light of day.

  “Well that’s undefined,” Ash scoffs, “She is either yours or she isn’t and if she isn’t, she’s fair game.”

  At that, Peyton’s head snaps up and she narrows her eyes in Ash’s direction, “Excuse me?”

  “You know what I mean babe,” Ash tries and fails at using his charm on her and I’m unable to hide my smirk of satisfaction.

  I can’t say I enjoyed watching his display of flirting with her. I can’t say I reveled in the sea of jealousy I was currently swimming in but hey, jealousy is better than pain so I guess I could take this as a win.

  Peyton curls her lips, her eyes turning fiery, reminding me of the girl I used to know. Her brow quirks, “Aw, Ash, if I knew this was a game, I would have played my winning card already.”

  He grins, “That’s right, babe.”

  Decker and Colt settle back, knowing damn well what’s about to go down and that smirk I was unable to contain has turned into a full grin.

  I know this girl.

  I know the sass and the attitude.

  She hasn’t had this for a long time and it’s a fucking gem to see her like this right now.

  She lifts her still full beer, having not touched it in the last half hour since it was set in front of her and smiles, a devil may care grin and proceeds to launch the beer in Ash’s face.

  “Next time, jerk face,” she sneers, leaning over the table, “Don’t call out how you think women are simply ‘fair game’. It won’t bode well for you.”

  She jostles to get past Colt’s knee and he lets her, grabbing his things to follow her home. I get up before he can, before I can think better of it, and touch his shoulder, getting his attention, “I’ve got it.”

  His brows pull down but he nods, settling back in. “Make sure she’s alright.”

  “I will.”

  I follow her slim, petite body through the still heaving bar, my eyes straying to the roundness of her hips and how her jeans hug her ass almost as if they’d been painted on.

  The girl had always been stunning, painfully so but in the past few years she’d really started to glow. I saw her in the gym, sometimes as early as I was but I made sure she never saw me. But it wasn’t just that, it was her smile, the genuine one she rarely gave out that lit up her eyes, her laugh, a musical cadence that could literally make you feel weightless.

  The air is bitter as I step from the bar, the wind icy, an early frost starting to settle across the cars parked in the lot and the grass on the verges. It’s then I notice Peyton isn’t wearing a jacket.

  “Peyton,” I call out. I was originally just going to follow her back to her dorms, seeing her inside before heading home myself but it’s a good ten minute walk and the temperature is close to freezing.

  She stops but doesn’t turn. I shrug out of my jacket, saying nothing as I step up beside her and hook the jacket around her shoulders. Her inhale is sharp, her eyes fluttering closed.

  “You don’t have to,” she says, barely above a whisper.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

  She slowly turns her head to me, a question pulling down her brows but she doesn’t voice it. Her sneakered feet start moving again and I match her pace, burying my hands in the pockets of my jeans as we walk back to her dorm.

  “Why are you doing this?” She asks about two minutes away from her residence.

  “What?” I ask even though I know.

  “Three years, Fletcher,” she sighs.

  “Not tonight,” my voice comes out harsher than I intend. There’s no way I can go into it tonight. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  She scoffs and shakes her head, “Whatever. I’m done with all this.”

  She suddenly stops on the sidewalk turning to me. Her dorm is in view, the lights of the entrance lighting up the narrow path that leads up to the front door.

  Peyton shrugs out of my jacket and shoves it in my chest, leaving me no choice but to grab or let it fall to the floor.

  “Next time,” she hisses, her eyes glistening, “Don’t bother.”

  “What the fuck?” My jaw clamps tight.

  “Forget your warped sense of duty, Fletch.” I wince at the name. Sure most people call me by my nickname but I hadn’t heard it from her lips in years, “Forget everything. Go back to ignoring me, it was easier than having you this close and you still being a fucking asshole.”

  Before I have a chance to respond, she spins on her heel and storms towards her dorm. I don’t follow, I just watch, waiting for her to slam her way through the door and disappear from view.

  When I make it back to my own house, I fall onto my mattress and as if I haven’t tortured myself enough, I drag out an old family album, going to one photo in particular.

  As if I ever believed I could live the rest of my life with her not in it.

  Four

  3 years ago

  I pull up in the truck, my music loud as the sun blares down against the windscreen, my only saving grace the fast, cold air blowing from the fans on the dash. I knew the moment I stepped from this vehicle a sweat would break out over my skin, but I didn’t care.

  It had been a few weeks since I had come home from college, my first year was both amazing and exhausting but summer was close, just a few weeks before we all had time off.

  I could hear Tyler in the yard and water splashing which meant Peyton was probably here too.

  My chest squeezes as I think about the girl. Even time away hasn’t dulled the feelings she stirred in me which of course, were completely wrong considering she was Tyler’s girl and had been for years.

  I pull my ball cap onto my head, shadowing my eyes from the blaring sun, and head around the side of the house, spotting my mom lounging on a chair beneath an umbrella whilst Peyton floats on a bright purple floatie in the pool, a tiny little red bikini barely covering a single thing on her body. I follow the line of her stomach, the toned muscle, the silver belly ring glinting in the sunshine. Her long dark hair is pulled into a messy bun on top of her head whilst a pair of sunglasses covers her blue eyes.

  Her head turns
and whilst I can’t see her eyes I know she’s looking right at me. It’s a feeling, a sense, right down inside my body, a warmth. And it’s wrong.

  So very wrong.

  My jaw clenches as I drag my gaze from her, finding Tyler at the edge of the pool, reaching for a soccer ball.

  Putting my fingers to my lips, I whistle, the sound loud and violent in the otherwise quiet yard.

  My mom startles from her position and Tyler whips around, ball forgotten, “Where’s the welcome home parade?” I yell out, grinning. Despite the war of feelings about Peyton, I am happy to see my family.

  “Fletcher!” Mom cries out, “You said you weren’t coming home this weekend!”

  She quickly scurries towards me, her pink summer dress long and flowy whilst her chestnut colored hair has grown out a little since I last saw her, the ends curling midway down her neck rather than sitting at her chin.

  “Hey momma,” I smile, pulling her into a hug and kissing her head.

  A little sniffle sounds and I laugh, shaking my head, allowing her to step away from me ready for my dad who’s stepped out from the kitchen with a beer and a grin.

  “Son,” he beams, giving me a one handed hug and slap on the back.

  Tyler’s next, “Hey little bro,” I say, hugging him back, “How’s senior year? You looking forward to joining the big boys next year?”

  He rolls his eyes, “You’re not even a year older than me, stop acting like you’re an adult now.”

  I scoff, “I am an adult.”

  “Is that why your mom still buys your groceries? ‘Cause you’re a big boy?” Peyton’s sweet, melodic voice sends a wave of shivers coursing down my spine. She steps up besides Tyler, her head cocked to the side whilst a playful, teasing smile tugs at her pink lips.

  I know touching her won’t help my situation, it won’t stop the burn flooding my veins and it certainly won’t aid in stopping the inappropriate thoughts from pushing all logic from my brain, but I open my arms as she steps into them.