All For You (Boys of the South) Read online

  All For You

  By Marquita Valentine

  Copyright © 2013 by Marquita Valentine

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design: Okay Creations

  Professionally edited by Cynthia Shepp

  Professionally Formatted by Dead River Books Formatting

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  More Books by Marquita Valentine

  Holland Springs Series

  Seduction of the Billionaire

  Drive Me Crazy

  Driving To You

  Twice Tempted

  Third Time’s A Charm

  His Christmas Wish

  Just Desserts

  Not Over You (coming Dec. 9th)

  Be Mine (Coming February 10th, 2014)

  Boys of the South (New Adult Series)

  Live For You

  Only For You

  All For You

  True For You

  Wish For You (coming January 20th, 2014)

  To those who have suffered through years of cruel words and deeds, this book is for you. Writing this story was like slashing open an old wound and bleeding on the pages, but I couldn't not write it, and in the end, I felt better. I felt freer. Here's hoping and praying that anyone who's ever been bullied finds their freedom.

  All For You

  Bully. Tormentor. Lover.

  West Diaz has been all of these things to me.

  After being gone for two years, he's back, begging for my forgiveness. And not just my forgiveness... He wants more.

  He wants... Me.

  Chapter One

  West

  There’s a reason why I haven’t been back to a party in Forrestville since I started college, and she’s staring at me from across the room.

  I hadn’t expected to see McKenzie Walsh here. Although, I had planned to see her at some point. Judging by the look on her gorgeous face, she’s equal parts angry and surprised by my appearance.

  But then the unthinkable happens, anger gives way to indifference. Her pointed little chin tips up in the air and she turns away, dismissing me.

  Five years ago, that very move would have made me tenacious in my quest to get her to notice me. To make sure that she unequivocally knew her very existence at Forrestville High depended on my benevolence. Like I was some kind of god.

  Shame washes over me, and I feel sick to my stomach. The cold beer in my hand, one of the perks for coming tonight, looks about as appetizing as the condom I’d seen lying on the grass by the poolhouse.

  “West Diaz in da HOUSE!” one of my old soccer teammates yells, cupping his hand over his mouth. He grabs the nearest chick and smacks her ass. “WEST DOG!”

  A few guys start barking.

  Barely managing to suppress an eye roll, I lift up my cup in salute and follow with a chin nod. Someone bumps my arm, jostling my red Solo cup. Beer sloshes over the rim, onto my hand.

  “Damn it,” I growl, wiping my hand on my jeans.

  “Having fun yet?” my buddy, Parker Morgan, asks. He gives me his usual smile, one that’s this side of a smirk. It had been my idea to come here, not his. In all the years we’ve been friends, he has never come to one of these parties, because he either had to work or had family stuff, but a big part of me suspects that he never liked my group of friends.

  A girl rushes past me, then freezes and pukes in a potted plant. Something crashes to the floor. The music gets louder and my head actually begins to ache. I search for McKenzie, but she’s disappeared.

  I exhale. “Let’s go.” There’s no real reason to be at this party. Coming was nothing more than a habit.

  A bad one at that.

  Parker visibly relaxes as I set my cup down and start for the front of the house. “We can go to my place or The Double D. Cole’s being weird right now and he’s home with Kelly, so you might want to opt for The Double D.”

  I slice him a glance. “You want to go hang out at work, while you’re off work?”

  “Practically lived there growing up. Why should things change now?” he jokes, only with him—every joke’s really a statement. But I learned a long time ago not to push it. If Parker wants to talk, he will, but because we’re dudes, he won’t.

  Shrugging into my jacket, I zip up the front and reach for the front door. It opens and we automatically step back. Two girls walk in, one I recognize and the other I will never forget.

  “McKenzie,” I say and her lips thin. “I thought you left.”

  I try to take in all of her, but end up getting flashes: Lush lips. Mile long legs. Perfect chest. Pretty grey eyes.

  Those pretty eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then her chin tips up. Again. “So I’m not allowed here?”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” Oh yeah. This is going great.

  Her eyes narrow even more. “It’s not your house, Weston.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” I hold up my hands. “I was surprised to see you… twice.”

  McKenzie says nothing, only crosses her arms over her chest. This would be a great time to apologize and leave. Quick, easy, to-the-point, and all this guilt I’ve been carrying would be gone.

  But I can’t. The words are lodged in my throat.

  Parker coughs and McKenzie’s best friend, Julia Thompkins, glares at him. No help there.

  “Um, well, you see…” Smooth, Diaz. Real smooth. “It’s not my party, but I wouldn’t think you’d want to be—”

  “With the same people who threw clumps of sod at me, like a really bad Carrie remake the last time I was at a party like this?” McKenzie asks. She’s all defiant now, not at all like the sweet girl I’d used to dream about kissing. Or the one I’d actually kissed. Everywhere.

  But I’d done that to her. Yeah, I hadn’t thrown anything, but I hadn’t stopped it either. I’d been shocked, arriving in the middle of it all, watching in disbelief as the party-goers threw dirt and grass at McKenzie.

  Charlie, my on-again off-again girlfriend, runs to me, tears in her eyes as she grabs my arm. “They’re like animals. I can’t stop them,” she whispers. “We have to get out of here.”

  “I have to do something,” I say, rooted to the spot.

  Finally, Julia shows up and screams at everyone. They listen and move on. Still, I stand and watch Julia lead McKenzie away while that beautiful girl, covered in dirt from head to toe, assures her best friend she’s okay. That nothing’s broken and begs to be taken home.

  Only then did I move, backing into the shadows so McKenzie wouldn’t see me.

  A damn coward in every sense of the word.

  You’re not that guy anymore, I remind myself. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  “Leave with you?” She shakes her head, scrunching her nose at the same time. “I think I’ve had enough pranks pulled on me, but thanks.”

  Jaw clenching, I nod. “Maybe later this week?”

  “You’re completely delusional.” She turns and walks back outside.

  Julia punches me in the shoulder. “Do you
know how long it took me to convince her to come tonight?”

  “A long time, I’d imagine.” I shove my hands into my pockets, glad that McKenzie has a friend like her. Although glad isn’t the right word. Relieved maybe? Knowing McKenzie’s had Julia at her side all this time makes me feel a little better.

  Not that I deserve to feel anything good.

  Julia takes a step toward me. “You’re damn right.”

  “I didn’t know she’d be here.”

  “Like that’s an excuse,” she snaps. “God, you haven’t changed at all, have you?”

  The door blows open and I see McKenzie just under the streetlight by the curb. She standing there, arms wrapped around her middle. I want to go to her, to kiss her cold hands, and tell her that everything will be all right. That my arrival didn’t mean everything would be like before… that she was safe.

  “Give him a break, Julia. It was years ago. Hell, you pantsed me in front of the entire cafeteria our sophomore year. Should I still be pissed about that?” Parker asks.

  Julie makes a noise, the turns around and starts to make her way to McKenzie.

  Nothing about this evening is how I imagined things. Nothing.

  “Thanks, I…” I begin, turning my attention back to Parker. His green eyes are cold and suddenly, I can’t remember what the hell I was going to say next.

  “Don’t thank me,” he says. “You could have stopped all the bullying with one word, but you didn’t.”

  I swallow down my unrighteous anger. Parker’s right. I could have stopped it all.

  “I’m going to fix this, Parker. I swear it.” When word had gotten around school and he’d found out what I’d allowed to happen at the last party McKenzie attended, Parker stopped hanging out with me. He wouldn’t answer my texts, my phone calls, and then when I finally manned-up and went to his house, we beat the shit out of each other. Until his older brother, Cole, had come outside and kicked both our asses, that is. Mine more than Parker’s, because I’d been the one to start it.

  It had taken a year for Parker and me to get back to the way things used to be with us. And now I think I’ve screwed up all over again.

  Chapter Two

  McKenzie

  I’ve just turned the closed sign to open when a familiar black Porsche pulls up. My heart stutters in my chest. I know that car, know the driver, but what I don’t know is why he’s here of all places.

  Our gazes collide and he smiles. He holds up a bag and two to-go cups, then heads toward me.

  I begin to panic.

  There’s no one here but me. My dad’s out with his crew, going over a project for a new apartment complex down in Charlotte.

  Drawing myself up to my full height, I curse the fact that I’d worn flats instead of clogs. I need to feel tall, powerful, and in control.

  West pushes open the door and walks in, all smiles. He’s wearing a gray long-sleeved thermal tee with the Georgetown bulldog printed across the front, and dark jeans with brown boots. His ears are pierced, diamonds on each lobe.

  The kryptonite to my inner supergirl.

  “We’ve already got your house on the schedule this week,” I say, all business. Now turn around and leave, I want to add, but don’t.

  “I brought peace offerings, or as I like to call it, breakfast,” he says, ignoring me and shaking the bag a little.

  I’m not sure what to make of this. Everything about him makes me wary. His looks, his family’s money, the car he drives, and his attitude. So charming and full of himself, despite the years of torture he’d put me through.

  “I’ve already eaten,” I say, rearranging the ornaments on the Christmas tree by the door. Candy canes hang from each branch. There’s a star at the top, a little crooked and a whole lot perfect. Empty boxes wrapped in festive paper sit beneath the entire thing.

  I concentrate on all of that, because then I can’t concentrate on him. I can’t concentrate on how he makes me feel. How when I look at him, I see two people: the tormentor of my sophomore, junior, and senior years, and the guy who gave me my first kiss, my first…well, everything.

  His expensive boots appear in my line of vision. The heat of his body touching mine. “A snack for later, then.”

  “You are the prettiest girl at Forrestville High,” he whispers in my ear, before kissing me senseless. His hand steals up my shirt, fingers stopping just at the edge of my bra. I arch my back, desperate for him to touch me there. “And you taste so sweet.”

  “Please,” I beg, the buzz of the drinks I’d consumed making me reckless. “Kiss me again.”

  “You don’t have to take all of my kisses right now, greedy girl,” he laughs against my cheek. “Save some for later.”

  I blink, then tip up my chin to look at him. He’s still smiling at me, white teeth flashing against permanently tan skin. His black hair is messy and there’s stubble on his cheeks and jaw. His chocolate-colored eyes rake over me, like the night before, and I want to cover myself.

  West makes me feel raw. He makes me feel seventeen all over again, where I’m back at that stupid party, playing a stupid game that had led to us ending up in his bedroom, making out on his bed. Which had led to us…

  “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, and take measured steps to the desk. My knees are wobbly, and I can’t afford to show any weakness. He’ll forget all about whatever’s in that bag and eat me up instead. “I have work to do.”

  “I’m sorry for tormenting you. I’m sorry for not doing a damn thing about Charlie and her—”

  “Don’t you dare.” I round on him, poking a finger into his broad chest. “Don’t you dare try to place the blame on everyone but you.”

  He captures my wrist in his large hand and places my palm on his chest. His heart beats hard beneath my palm. “Please hear me out.”

  “Say whatever you want, but I’m not forgiving you.” Tears clog my throat and prick at the back of my eyes. I have to turn away before they betray me.

  “I’m not here to make you forgive me.”

  My head snaps back. Angry tears cannibalize the helpless ones. “Excuse me?”

  He takes a deep breath, as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t want you to do, or say, or feel anything you don’t want to, but I have to apologize. I’ve waited too damn long as it is. And I can’t go another day…another hour, or minute, or second longer.”

  Stunned, my jaw falls open.

  “I’m sorry, McKenzie Walsh, for being a bully and a coward. I hope by saying this, that you can find peace.” He gives me this sad smile, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.

  Tears gather on my lashes, a few falling as I blink. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I was fine until you showed up.” I swallow a sob. “Why couldn’t you leave me alone?” I realize that I’m not just referring to him showing up all of a sudden, but rather years of West being a constant thorn in my side.

  He uses the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away the tears on my face, leaving tracks of heat. “Because I was a stupid high school jock.”

  I make a noise, swallowing yet another sob. My heart is pounding, and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. This has to be a joke. “And now you’re all mature?”

  West’s expression turns as serious as I’ve ever seen. “I’d like to think so, but only you can be the judge of that.”

  “I don’t want to be the judge.” I sniff, tears falling faster. “I want you—”

  He kisses me, softly. Lightly. A gentle pressure of his lips to mine, and yet it feels as though he’s taken a sledgehammer to my body, breaking me into tiny pieces. I jerk back, wiping the back of my hand over my mouth.

  But it doesn’t faze him, not one bit.

  “I swear to make it up to you,” he says fiercely. “I promise that I’ll never make you cry again.”

  I shake my head. “You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.”

  He dares to brush his thumb over my lower lip and I fight the urge to bite him.
“Oh, I mean it, sweetheart. Unfortunately, this mature guy needs your permission to follow through.”

  “My what?” I croak.

  “Permission.”

  He lets go of me and steps back. My traitor of a body misses his touch, misses his kisses and warmth. I’m sick for feeling this way. There has to be something wrong with a girl that can manage to nurse a crush and a hatred for the boy who gave her the first real kiss of her life.

  “Without it, I’m just a bunch of words,” he says softly.

  “Words can repair or tear down,” I remind him.

  “True,” he agrees, nodding a little. “But imagine what actions combined with words can do.”

  Memories of that night hit me, like the bags of dirt and grass Charlie and her friends had thrown at me, had smashed into my face, my hair, and clothes.

  Filthy Slut! Whore! Stay the hell away from my boyfriend.

  Despite the first instinct to run, my limbs are frozen. They’re locked and bound by our shared past. “I don’t have to imagine. I already know.”

  His face pales a little, but his gaze never wavers. “So do I.” Then he turns and walks away.

  The phone rings. The sound making me simultaneously jump and scream. Thank God no one’s around to see me like this. My hands tremble as I answer the phone, jot down the information for my dad, and hang up.

  On my desk sits the bag and two cups of coffee. Wrinkling my nose, I grab the bag and toss it in the trash, then take the cups to the back to pour out their contents in the sink. I open the first one, black liquid goes swirling down the drain as I pour it out. Popping the second top, I start to tip it over and then pause. The distinct smell of hot chocolate laced with cinnamon invades my senses. My favorite beverage to drink on cold days.

  West grabs my thermos and unscrews the top, peering inside before raising his brows at me. Why does he have to be so beautiful and mean?

  “Muddy water for breakfast again? You’re really dedicated to the job,” West taunts as he and his crew laughs. Charlie, the always-present girlfriend, cackles along.