Chapter 166: Chapter Four

Priscilla

I grabbed the boxes from the donation center and carried them outside to my car. My dad's church had recently decided to do a contest where each family donated clothing to the local Goodwill.

The family that won was given an overnight stay at the new resort in Cannon Beach. I guess that was one way to get people to give, especially in this day and age.

And I was only asking for a dollar donation.

Sometimes I hated people.

I was much happier being the silent one in the background.

Give me a clipboard with a list of things to accomplish or a building to paint, but don't make me deal with people who haughtily talked out of their asses for a living.

My dad would kill me if he could hear my inner monologue. I'd just said ass like two times in the past five minutes.

Dehydration and irritation were both setting in.

The dehydration was due to the fact that nobody was helping me carry all five thousand boxes to my car on account of they were all at a cheer competition for my little sister.

My irritation had been caused by an entirely different reason — I was still thinking about the devil, also known as Jamie Jaymeson, A-list actor and genuine jackass. See? There I go again.

Maybe I should just write ass across my shirt. You know, really commit to the word for an entire day.

I snorted as I crammed another box into my car. If Jaymeson and his stupid accent were here, I'm sure I could throw around a lot more than ass.

With a grunt, I picked up one more box and shoved it into the car, slamming the door behind it.

Forget my grandmother, visions of Jaymeson teased me; they haunted me, they seriously made me want to fly down to LA and burn down his house — with him inside.

It hadn't been my first kiss.

But it had been my best — my favorite. Until the idiot, see I don't have to say ass all the time, decided to panic and act like a commitment-phobe freak.

What? It wasn't like I expected him to propose to me! I'm eighteen! Eight-freaking-teen!

I saw a Jaymeson that I'm sure the world had never seen. He was awkward, afraid, scared, hilarious.

And mine.

He'd kissed me like I was his, and I hated that every second of the day a part of me wished it were true.

With a sigh, I walked over to the driver's side of my car and heard a loud honking. I jerked back against my door and swore out loud as a truck sped by and flipped me off.

Great, so thinking of Jaymeson wasn't just driving me slowly insane, it was going to get me killed.

I needed to find a boyfriend.

And get a life.

I'd promised my parents I would take a semester off and start school at Oregon State in the spring.

Yeah, I should have never made that promise. I was already in hell. And FYI, hell isn't a bad word because it's an actual place; I tell my dad this on a daily basis.

I turned the key in my red Camry and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. I drove like a snail toward Goodwill, and it had nothing to do with the fact that I was a terrible driver.

It did, however, have everything to do with the fact that my parents were going to be gone for an entire week, only to come home for the weekend and leave again for my sister's next cheerleading competition in Seattle.

Leaving me alone.

All alone.

I started singing, “All by myself…” at the top of my lungs then stopped. You know you've hit a low point when your own singing grates on your nerves.

My friends had all abandoned me for college — it was September, where else would they be?

And I had a week to look forward to movies and silence.

Books became my boyfriend.

My addiction.

My obsession.

Me and Mr. Darcy were basically married now — I mean, I spoke to him out loud on a daily basis, minus the English accent, because, you've guessed it! Jaymeson had an English accent.

“Damn it!” I slammed the steering wheel with my hand, accidentally hitting the horn as a sweet old lady made her way slowly across the street with a cane.

I mouthed “sorry.”

And received another finger.

How nice, the sweet old lady knows how to flip people off.

I fought the urge to return the gesture — but figured it was probably a bad idea considering a bumper sticker from my dad's church had found its way onto my car.

Every time I took it off.

He replaced it.

Resistance was futile.

Hah! Star Trek! I pumped my fist into the air and then swallowed. “Holy crap, I need a life.”

Starting now. I pulled into the parking lot and vowed… the next few months would be different.

He was dead to me.

“Dead, you hear me!” I slammed my fist into the horn again, this time on purpose, forgetting that my window was open.

A guy from Goodwill walked over and grimaced. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

“Sorry.” I felt my cheeks blush. “I… um, I'm here to deliver donations from Seaside Christian Fellowship?” Yeah… way to go, Pris.

He licked his lips and let out a chuckle. “Of course you are.”

And my blush deepened.

“I'll get the boxes out, you just sit tight. Seems like it's been a rough day for you.”

“Try rough summer,” I mumbled under my breath.

“I'm Smith.”

I squinted as the sun blinded me. “Is that your last name?”

“First.” He smiled again, this time revealing a deep-set dimple on his left cheek. The sun was shining in my eyes, so really all I could see was teeth, nice white teeth with a big white smile.

Like a movie star.

I groaned.

“Hey, are you okay?” He reached for my door just as I pushed it open, and — you guessed it — knocked him flat on his ass.

“Oh, my gosh!” I rushed to his side and grabbed his arm. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… I mean, I wasn't…” Words died.

Gorgeous.

He was beautiful. I let out a little gasp — swear it wasn't on purpose — and gave him a small smile and tried again. “I really am sorry.”

He grinned again; dirty blond hair fell in disarray across his face as he grabbed my hand, lifting himself off the ground. “It's alright, you can knock me on my ass anytime.”

Embarrassed, I looked down at my shoe, the most uninteresting white sneaker in the world, and said nothing.

“Hey!” a voice said from the door. “Is that the church donation?”

I put a hand over my forehead and squinted.

It was Nat's friend Evan; he was a few years older than me and had just gotten married while the whole AD2 gang was in town for the big celebration of Alec and Nat.

And pushing that memory away, again, for the fiftieth time that afternoon.

“Yup.” Smith chuckled. “We've got everything under control.”

“Okay!” Evan yelled and ran back into the center.

“Boss?” I crossed my arms.

“Worse.” Smith grinned. “Brother.”

“Older?” I asked calmly while my insides were pleading. If he was older than Evan there was no hope. Evan was twenty-one.

“Who's asking?” He licked his lips and took a step toward me; his height dwarfed my own five-foot-two frame.

“Never mind.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “So, these boxes.” I opened the passenger door and began pulling them out.

We worked together in silence, and within minutes I was free of the donations and able to leave.

“Thanks again!” I forced a smile and got into my car, turning it on, and quickly putting it in reverse, but suddenly Smith was hanging inside my window, and I had nowhere to go.

“Older,” he whispered. “Much older.”

I knew it. Oh well. “So you're like a creepy old man then?”

“Whoa there!” he laughed. “I'm only twenty-three. Let's not start getting crazy.”

Jaymeson's twenty-third birthday had been last month.

Would I never be free of him?

“Nice.” I nodded politely. “But I gotta run.”

“Suit yourself, beautiful.” Smith winked. “But next time, I'll put on my running shoes, so don't think you'll be getting away from me as fast.”

“I'll just drive!” I yelled out my window as he stepped back.

His eyes seemed to say “we'll see,” as I watched him from my mirror.

Sweating, I gripped the steering wheel and made my way toward my parents' modest house just outside of town. He was the type of friend I most certainly did not need.

Which was why I was probably going to go back.

And I'd probably be on a bike.

So he could catch me.

So I could get a damn kiss that erased the memory of Jaymeson for good.

So I could be free of that damn movie star once and for all.