Sparkling Hope (The Eastburgh Devils Series Book 1)
Sparkling Hope: Chapter 41

We had pasta for dinner. Again.

Only this time with shrimp and a feta cheese-tomato sauce. Which didn’t bother me because I couldn’t get enough of it, just like I couldn’t get enough of cocoa.

I tried to look only a few times at Weston, sitting across from me and turning the long ribbon noodles onto his fork without eating them. Meanwhile, small portions of threaded tagliatelle were spread across his plate.

‘Don’t you like it, Weston?’ my mother asked before putting her wine glass to her lips.

Weston looked at my mother. ‘No, No. It’s delicious…uhm…I mean, really delicious, but I’m not that hungry.’

He put a forced smile on his lips and returned his attention to his plate.

‘I hope you won’t act like that at the benefits gala, Son.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t even be there, Father,’ Weston emphasized the last word.

‘Excuse me?’

Please, don’t let this conversation escalate.

It was quiet.

Camilla continued to eat her pasta with relish, and my mother did the same. I had no choice but to do the same to them and pretend it was just a quiet conversation between Weston and his father.

My hands were tied right now. There was nothing I could do about it. Besides, it would be wrong for me to interfere.

‘We have a game that night.’

Mr. Sinclair wiped his mouth with the napkin on his lap and leaned back.

‘You’re kidding me, right?’

Weston glanced at his father, who sat next to him. ‘Do I look like I’m kidding?’

That was the moment I knew it was going to escalate.

Since we’ve lived here, I hadn’t even witnessed the two of them converse where there was somehow a spark of love and familiarity.

‘I think you don’t quite understand me. This isn’t an invitation with an invitation card for you to attend the Benefits Gala. You have no choice but to show up there.’

‘How do you actually think I’m going to do that? Tell my Coach I must leave the ice in the middle of the game because I’m supposed to attend your fucking benefits gala?’

‘I think we’ll clear the table,’ my Mother said, calmly.

‘You’re welcome to remain seated, Ruby. You’re welcome to witness what a disappointment my Son is to this family.’

I hated Rick Sinclair with everything I held dear.

How could someone speak disgustingly of his son and embarrass him so badly?

If he listened to Weston or showed up to one of his games, he would know that Weston was anything but a disappointment. Rick Sinclair was a bitter old man who probably plucked his gray hair from his scalp with tweezers in the morning.

I took my plate covered with noodles and my glass and stood up.

‘Luna?’ my mother said my name softly as I turned my back on the table and set my dishes down in the kitchen.

‘Please sit back down,’ she whispered, and I glanced at the table.

Tingling heat rose in my cheeks, my pulse was racing, and I could feel it in my whole body.

‘I’m not going to continue to sit here and listen to what a disappointment Weston is. If you paid more attention to your son, you’d know he’s anything but a fucking disappointment.’

Oh my God. Did I just make an announcement to the man who was renovating our house and letting us live here? I did.

Am I about to go into cardiac arrest? Yes.

Did I regret what I just said? Never.

Mr. Sinclair looked at me in shock, and in my mind’s eye, I saw me and my mother packing our bags. My mother just shook her head, and Camilla tipped all the liquid in her wine glass down her throat. Either this woman was blind and only smelled Mr. Sinclair’s money, or she was dumb and loved this old, bitter guy.

Mr. Sinclair pushed the chair back and tossed the napkin on the table next to his plate.

‘I’d quickly retract what you just said if I were you, young lady.’

‘Dad,’ Weston muttered.

‘You’re going to show up at the Benefits Gala. This conversation is over.’ Mr. Sinclair stomped to the front door, and a short time later, the loud engine of his car was heard.

My mother glared at me with an angry look.

‘Luna, we’ll talk later, and I want you to go upstairs now and figure out how to apologize to Rick.’

I will go up with love but not even think about how to apologize to that man.

I looked to Weston, who dropped everything just like his father and sprinted up the stairs.

‘Rick and Weston will calm down, and everything will be fine. Just like always,’ Camilla handled this situation as if it was almost an everyday occurrence.

I ran up the stairs and heard the door to Weston’s room slam into the door frame and was sure to leave him alone for now.

I lay on the bed in my room, staring at the white ceiling as I reviewed dinner.

What the hell was I thinking?

Not that I regretted what I said, but I thought about what Weston felt then.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

Wouldn’t it have been wrong to say nothing and watch Mr. Sinclair beat Weston up like that?

Any common sense would do something about it or not say those words in the first place. Rick Sinclair was miles away from common sense.

I needed to talk with Weston because somehow I started to get scared of his thoughts about this situation and if he was mad at me. But it would be good if the situation calmed down and I sought the conversation later.

I distracted myself a bit, got my laptop out of my bag, and started writing an essay in journalism about control in sports.

In fact, my thoughts initially caught up in this essay as I started researching the topic.

That didn’t last long.

Suddenly, I woke up to the sound of my bedroom door to the bathroom closing. My laptop wasn’t right in front of me anymore but on the nightstand next to me. The small lamp with small white flowers as a detail on the lampshade was also off, and a wool blanket covered me.

It wouldn’t have been my mother because when I looked at my cell phone to check the time, I saw she had texted me.

MOM

We’ll talk again tomorrow.

Until then, think about what you said.

Although I hate to admit that you are right.

I turned off my phone and threw it at the foot of my bed. Through the darkness in my room, the light in the bathroom was visible through the door’s crack.

I made my way to the door and knocked gently on it.

‘Yes,’ it echoed, and the moment I opened the door a crack, Weston, who had his back to me, turned on the water in the shower.

I could set up a camp chair in front of the shower and look at his back, and I wouldn’t even get bored doing it.

I was also examining his butt.

I think hockey players’ butts were a real looker. Especially this butt right in front of me. He was still standing with his back to me, and I saw how the mirror above the washstand slowly started to fog up.

I wanted his closeness. So I closed the door behind me and took off all my clothes while Weston let the water splash over his head. I opened the glass door which separated me from him and stepped into the shower.

The first drops hit my body, and I could swear they would leave burn marks on my skin. So hot was the water.

I quickly got used to the heat of the water, and it all didn’t matter anyway as I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him from behind. I pressed my body against his and felt Weston’s arms touching mine.

The hot water splashed over my head, and I felt my hair cling to my back. My cheek touched his back, and I kissed his back once. Weston’s grip loosened, as did mine, when I realized he was turning to face me.

He looked down at me, and red, underlined dark brown eyes that usually shone lost their sparkle and glared at me.

Individual strands of hair stuck to his forehead, and despite the water that poured down on us from the shower head, I saw individual tears rolling down his red cheeks.

Right now, at this moment, he looked like porcelain that was already cracked and about to break down into thousands of pieces. I didn’t want him to collapse, and I would do anything to protect him from it because one thing I wanted him to know was that I would not leave his side so quickly.

This was the first time I’ve seen Weston like this. The usually confident guy who took no shit and went through life with a slouchy but ambitious attitude stood before me and looked so broken. I wanted to tell him that it was okay to drop his facade in front of me and that I was here for him, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

I never thought I would feel so much compassion and addiction for the guy I wanted to distance myself from the most.

Without saying anything, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close. Weston’s arms closed around my waist, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

He sighed and let his emotions take over.

‘I’m so sorry, Wes.’

Weston broke free of the embrace and glared at me. ‘For what?’

‘For what I said to your Dad. I shouldn’t have gotten involved,’ I explained.

‘Don’t ever apologize for that, okay? I’ve never seen my Dad so shocked.’

Weston kissed my forehead, and whenever he did that, my stomach tingled because I knew what his forehead kisses meant, and I felt a thousand butterflies fly from my stomach into my heart.

‘But,’

‘There is no but, Hazel Bug. My Dad’s a huge asshole. I should have told him something like that. I should have defended myself, but do you know how humiliating that was to have to listen to what a disappointment I am to the family?’ he sighed.

‘You’re anything but a disappointment, Wes. You are so much more. So much I see and so appreciate about you. Your attentiveness, you always know exactly when to say something and when not to, and you always have the right words ready.’ I paused for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Just because your Dad doesn’t see you doesn’t mean I don’t see you or the others. You know your Dad should be smacked with a hockey stick?’

In my mind’s eye, I saw exactly Weston’s Dad getting smacked with a hockey stick. Not that I really wanted to or would ever do that.

‘That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told,’ Weston muttered.

His voice wasn’t so shaky anymore. The drips on his face were pattering from the showerhead and none from his eyes anymore.

‘That your Dad should be smacked?’ I laughed.

‘The other one. Thanks, Luna, really. I have you, and there is nothing in the world I would trade you for.’

If I were a scoop of ice cream in a cone, I would be melting and running down the cone by now at Weston’s words. At that moment, him and me in the shower, I felt like I’d met him on a whole other level.

Weston’s gaze was suddenly so deep. His eyes looked from my eyes to my lips. ‘You must stop saying things that make me want to kiss you, though.’

‘Who said that I did not even want to achieve that with it?’ I said carefully, waiting for his answer.

Suddenly the feeling between my legs was hotter than the water splashing on us.

‘Oh, Luna Montgomery, if you knew all the things I want to do to you right now,’ he said in a deep voice, and my body responded immediately. Heat rose through my body like a shiver, and I felt my nipples harden and sparks fly between my legs.

‘Feel free and do what you want to me. I belong only to you, Weston Sinclair.’

Weston’s hand rested on my hip, pressing me closer to him, and I felt his boner while his other hand moved up to my breasts.

His thumbs stroked my hard nipples. ‘Oh baby, I like how your body responds to me,’ he said, and I felt the slow touch of his thumb over my nipple.

My breathing became faster and shorter as he kissed my neck and gently sucked on my skin.

I could feel my legs already starting to feel like jelly.

‘I want to taste you,’ he murmured against my skin, sending goosebumps over my wet skin. I gazed up at him, water streaming over him.

‘What is stopping you?’ I asked, swallowing hard.

If we continued to stand here, I would already come just from his presence. Without taking our eyes off each other, he turned off the water, and as if we’d had a mind transfer, we quickly approached, and our lips collided.

With one hand, he clasped my waist, lifted me up, and I put my legs around his torso. Carefully he got out of the shower, and with his other hand, he opened the door to his room.

Soaking wet and naked, we entered his dark, cool room.

The only thing that didn’t fully darken his room was the full moon’s light, which flooded the room through the windows.

Arriving at the bed, he lowered me, and I felt the covers against my wet back.

Weston stood before me, and I watched him as his eyes slid over my body until they lingered on my pussy for a moment and then crossed my gaze again.

‘God, Luna. You’re the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.’

My gaze drifted to his hard dick, and I wanted to pull Weston close to me and let his dick enter me.

‘Spread your legs, pretty girl, and let me taste every drop of you.’

Fucking hell.

The urge to finally give the pressure between my legs relief grew increasingly. I wanted him to touch me between my legs and feel how wet I was for him.