3 CHAPTER 2: How To Greet an Old Friend

I couldn't keep the grin off my face as I stood with Mikee in the hall. Mom's a stickler for rehearsed places when guests come over and she's already made me an example of the right attitude Dad and Mikee should have when expecting long-time friends over.

Well, I missed annoying the heck outta the guy. And I must take a pic of his tats. You know, just for future references...

... of how lickable those abs were...

I wasn’t even going to tell myself off for having such a hard-on for the guy's body. For the life of me, that and his tattoos were enough to even make me hotter than a heated oven.

Draven—or Blade as Mom had said in passing twenty-eight times a three hours ago—was my very first partner-in-crime. He and I stormed the grocery store together, forcing our moms to chase us down aisles, we watched gory movies and did tons of fun stuff. We also went to kindergarten together and trumped every duo out there that ever existed, even Mikee and Baron, Draven—Blade's—older brother.

He was also my first heartbreak. I cried for weeks when he and his family moved away, but now that he was back, I am determined to wrestle him back into his old place. Sasha will have to not mind. Why would she, though? He's grown up so hot.

And he's still the rudest son-of-a-bitch to ever grace this green earth.

The doorbell rang which made Mom hop out of her place beside Dad and open the door. Mrs. Carter, who carried a big porcelain dish covered in tin foil beamed and showed her pearly whites and literally squealed with joy, as if they didn't see each other a few hours ago.

Mrs. Carter did not look any different from my memories. She still had long brown hair and clear blue eyes with a body that can stop a truck on a highway. Her short stature made her look sweeter. But dear Lord have mercy on me, their voices…

"Karen!"

"Hazel!"

Behind mom and Mrs. Carter, the tall, older-looking guy only shook his head and met my father. "They're still a bunch of bumbling bees. How're you, June?"

Dad grinned the way he usually grins when he was making fun of my mom. "That's the kind of thing that always gets you in trouble with your wife, Harold."

The two men clapped each other in the back, and I guess Dad did miss his old fishing buddy. Also, can I just say that Mr. Carter looked good for a forty-something year old? Harold Carter looked like a blond George Clooney with a pair of gray eyes similar to both his sons. The youngest of which had his hands tucked inside the pockets of his black jeans, looking at me with a smirk on his face. Most of his tattoos were covered with his blue sweater (bummer), but the ones on his forearms looked just as exquisite. Plus, his long dark blond hair fell in a way made for male models with the sides cut short.

I was about to take a step towards Dr-Blade but Karen blind-sided me into a hug before I could. Draven—Blade, dammit!—looked on with amusement in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Karen was shrilly greeting me directly by my ear. "Ooh, sweetheart, you've grown so much! And beautiful, too! When we left you were just so little! You remember Draven don't you?"

Jeez. Like mom, she didn't even stop to breathe. But I smiled at her, since the only other option for me was to push her at a safe distance, which was twenty yards away like a concert, but my eyes landed on Draven—oh to hell with it!—when I spoke: "Yes, I do, Karen. In fact..."

I stepped out of her clutches, closed the distance with Draven, and kicked his shin hard.

"Fuck!"

"Draven!"

"Ashley!"

"What?” I asked innocently. “He was rude to me this morning.”

Draven grimaced, shaking his leg out. "I'm fine."

I smiled widely at our families. "See? He's fine."

Mikee's shoulders moved up and down, his fist on his mouth as he laughed silently. Mom swatted him with the back of her hand and glared at me. "Ashley, I want you to apologize. Now."

Draven shook his head. "No need, Mrs. Nicholson. We can call it even. Right, firecracker?"

Firecracker: his nickname for me once upon a time ago. His gray eyes shined with remembrance before opening his arms. Immediately, I dived in and let myself be held in his strong arms.

"God, I missed you," I mumbled into his shoulder. He was a whole lot of inches taller than me now and he smelled of cherries, just like he always did when we were younger.

We pulled away, and he lifted a hand to mess my hair. I scowled in spite of the strong rush of nostalgia. "I don't know why I do, though. You're still an asshole."

"Thanks for the compliment."

I rolled my eyes. Mom ushered us into the dining room, and seated me next to Draven and Mikee. The grown-ups did most of the talking. The mashed potatoes were too good for a second to be wasted not devouring it. It turns out the dish that Karen brought over was her famous seafood paella so I ate a good part of that, too. Once the rest was done, Mom brought out ice cream to be eaten in the living along with cups of coffee. Out of old habit, Draven and I sat on the floor, legs crossed, and near the open fire.

"I suppose you're going to enter Stanton, Draven?" Dad asked over his coffee.

Draven put his spoon down and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Mom sorted it out before we came here. I'm starting on Monday."

"That's cool," Mikee mumbled from the single he sat on. "You and Ash are in the same year, yeah?"

Draven glanced at me. "Think so."

I gave him the cherry in my sundae. "Fair warning: stay away from anything that was not fried in the cafeteria."

"Duly noted."

The adults went back to their own topics and no longer listened in to our conversation. Draven leaned back on the bean bags sideways to face me.

"You look familiar."

I snorted, opening my mouth for a comeback but Draven shook his head. "No, I mean, I only recognize you as Ashley now because of your parents and your house and shit, but you've—you have changed a lot. Your face, however, I've seen it much recently than when we were younger."

I got what he was saying. If someone busted out the family photo album, you'd say puberty did its job fantastically on me. The only problem was that I'd recognize him if we ever met. No one handled the air of arrogance and confidence like Draven Carter.

Shrugging off his own delusions, he changed tack. "I only saw one car outside your house. Does that mean you take the bus?"

I nodded, spooning more ice cream in my mouth. He raised his brows. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Draven sighed. "I'll give you a ride from here on out, okay?"

"Okay."

A smirk splayed on his face. It made me want to take back what I said but what is the worst vehicle he could give me a ride with? If he knew the shit I've already seen with these pretty green eyes then he'd see how much his 'firecracker' had evolved to a freaking grenade.

Draven winked at me before they left. It was a good night, but something in the back of my mind was telling me there's more to my old best pal. The tattoos said it all.

I stop and bang myself on the wall.

Stupid Ashley! I forgot to ask for a picture of his tattoo!