At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

He dragged his tongue across the seam of my lips, and I gasped. I felt his smile against my mouth at my response, and then his tongue moved forward and brushed against mine. I moaned at that first sweep of him inside my mouth. Everything felt so amazing and overwhelming. I was hot all over, and his hand moved from my neck down my back. I could feel every point that our bodies touched like it was superheated. A small inferno down my back, all the way to my hip, and then across my thigh to the hem of my skirt.

I gasped as he slipped a hand under the tiny St. Catherine’s skirt and pulled back. His breathing was ragged as he stared down at me. He didn’t apologize, but his hand moved back on top of my skirt.

“I should probably…” I managed.

“Marley,” he breathed my name like a prayer. His hazel eyes swirling all over my face.

I didn’t want to go. My lips felt swollen. My body hummed in a way I’d never experienced before. Was this how I was supposed to feel? It was exhilarating. And I was going to make a huge mistake if I stayed.

I tried to stand, and he tugged me down into his lap. My eyes widened as I felt exactly what our kiss had done to him.

“Stay,” he pleaded.

I shook my head, even as I leaned forward and kissed him hard and in earnest. In that moment, I understood drug addicts. Because Derek Ballentine could very easily be the most addictive substance on the planet.

“Derek, I…” I tried again.

“Keep kissing me like that.”

And so I did. I’d always followed logic. I’d always been the smart one. And I didn’t want to be.

But I wanted to be my mother even less. With twins at eighteen, right out of high school, and no husband to show for it. A desperate need for love, chasing stupidity around every block and never taking responsibility for a damn thing in her life.

I pushed him backward, ignoring the pitter-patter of my heart and the ragged quality to my breathing. “I should get back to my friends.”

“Marley…”

I stumbled to my feet. “I should go.”

I didn’t wait. I just hurried back down the stairs. A second later, a hand grabbed my elbow at the base of the stairs.

I whipped around to find Derek had followed me.

“What?” I got out.

“I just…”

“Yeah, Derek!” a group of guys yelled nearby.

I jolted at the noise, sharply bringing me back to reality.

Derek laughed and shouted out to them. I looked up at him and saw the same guy that I’d seen at the football game yesterday. It hardly mattered that he’d given me my first kiss and made me lose my ever-loving mind. We existed in two separate worlds. And I couldn’t end up like my mother.

So, I snuck away while he talked to his friends and headed back to Lila, who was still attached to Maddox.

“You were gone forever!” Lila said. “Did you find the bathroom?”

I glanced backward to make sure Derek hadn’t followed me again. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I found it.”

I’d found a whole hell of a lot more than the bathroom.

4

Savannah

Present

“Come on, Mars!” Derek yelled from the other side of the door.

I leaned back against the front door and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t need this. I didn’t need Derek Ballentine in my life especially right after Gran’s funeral. I had hoped to be in Savannah and never, ever have to see him again. Ever. Not after all the shit we had gone through together for years. I couldn’t lose Gran and deal with him at the same time.

“Open the door.”

I didn’t move.

Maddox peeked down at me from the stairs. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Derek,” I told him.

He grimaced. “Oh. Want me to tell him to leave?”

“Do you think that would work?”

Maddox shot me a disbelieving look. “I’d do it anyway.”

“No. It’s okay. It’s my own mess. I’ll clean it up.”

“Yell if you need me.”

I nodded at him, took a deep, fortifying breath, and then yanked the door back open. Derek stumbled forward a step and then righted himself immediately.

“What do you want, Derek? This isn’t a good time.”

“Yeah, I heard about Gran,” he said. His hazel eyes crinkled at the corners in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. She was a great woman.”

“She… was,” I said, stumbling over the past tense.

“I always think of her fondly.”

“Thank you,” I ground out. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here. I thought I’d made it pretty clear that I didn’t want to see you.”

“I understand. But can we go somewhere and talk?”

I blinked at him. “On what planet do you think I’d say yes to that?”

He shot me a look that I knew well. It was a mix of exasperation and just a hint of desire. How many times had I heard him say that he liked me riled up? Well, that part had never been our problem anyway.