I CAN’T SLEEP.
Rolling to my side, I lift my phone from the nightstand and check the time. Twelve thirty. Ugh.
Tossing the covers back, I slide out of bed and make my way over to the French doors leading to the balcony. I punch in the four-digit code on the alarm panel and step out on the balcony into the humid air. The air is so thick, it’s not five minutes before I feel like I need another shower. And the mosquitoes are no joke.
I spot a familiar figure standing alone on the dock facing the water. Turning around, I head back inside, grab a long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants and slip them on over my tank and sleep shorts. Sliding my bare feet into a pair of flip-flops, I skip down my balcony stairs to the path leading to the dock.
“I guess I’m not the only one around here who can’t sleep,” I say, snaking my arm around Bass’s waist. Bass lifts his big arm and wraps it around my shoulders, tucking me closer to his side. I tilt my head back to look up at him. Even in the shadows of the moonlight, I can see the pained expression on his face. My heart sinks. “What’s wrong, B?”
“Nothing, Princess.” Bass smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I was just thinking.”
“You’re sad.”
He nods slowly. “Yeah.” He sighs. “I am.”
I rest my head against his chest. “I miss him, too.” I turn to stare out at the lake. “Do you think he would’ve liked it here?”
“I do,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before turning us around and guiding us back to the house. “Come on. It’s late and you have school tomorrow.”
“B, will you do me a favor?” I ask, pausing to look up at him.
“What’s that?” He smiles again, but this time it’s real.
“Will you get a life?” I smile and bite down on my bottom lip. Bass’s eyebrows draw inward. “Just hear me out,” I begin. “You’ve been taking care of us for a long time. It’s time you find someone to take care of you. You’re still young and handsome. Mom has a pretty friend named Lisa she could hook you up with.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “I’m not saying I don’t need you anymore because I’ll always need you. You’re one of the most important people in my life and the closest to a father that I have now, besides Uncle Drew, but he isn’t with me twenty-four seven like you are. Now that I’ll be busy with school and dance classes on Wednesday nights, you’ll have more free time to live your life instead of babysitting me.”
“That was a mouthful, Princess.” He chuckles. “And I’m not babysitting you. It’s my job to take care of you and to protect you,” he states in a firm tone. “It’s what Marcus wanted.”
“I know, B, but we’re not in LA. I don’t think we need to worry about the stalkarazzi jumping out from the bushes. Besides, I’m not a celebrity.”
Bass gives me a look.
“I’m not,” I insist. “Not really.” He raises his brows. “Okay, fine,” I growl. “You mentioned something the other day about hiring additional security. I don’t think we need it but if it will give you break, then I’m okay with it.”
Bass nods. “Well, if I’m gonna get myself a life, you’ll need it.” He chuckles. “We’ll see how things go first. Come here.” He pulls me to his chest. “I love you, Princess, but you’re not calling the shots when it comes to protecting you. You’ll get your space, but give me some time, okay?”
“Okay.”
He releases me and we walk to the house in a comfortable silence, only the chirping of crickets and croaking frogs echoing in the darkness.
I’m completely lost in my thoughts when I hear a fluttering sound, like a helicopter in the distance.
But the fluttering sound gets closer to my ear. Before I realize what the hell it is, something lands on my neck and crawls up the side of my face.
Something with too many friggin’ legs.
“Aaaaah!”
EVERY LIGHT INSIDE and outside the house flicks on at the sound of my scream. Two men appear out of nowhere and come running toward me. What the hell? It doesn’t escape my attention that they’re dressed the same as the GI Joe guards at the security gate.
“She’s okay,” Bass calls out—more like laughs out—from behind me. I sprint through the back door and into the kitchen, swatting at my neck, hair, and clothes.
“What happened?” my mom shrieks as she runs into the kitchen. Her eyes are bugging out as she reaches for me, grasping my shoulders to look me over.
I can only imagine what she’s thinking when she sees my disheveled appearance. Half of my hair has fallen from the hair tie and probably looks like a couple of rats got to it. My clothes are ripped. I’ve scratched my neck, which I’m pretty sure is bleeding right now. I might’ve even punched myself in the face; my lip feels a little swollen and I think I taste blood in my mouth.
“She’s okay,” Bass chokes out through a laugh from behind me. He leans against the island in the kitchen. “She….” Laugh. “A bug….” Laugh.
“It’s not funny, B,” I pout.
“I’m sorry, Princess, but that shit was so damn funny.” He laughs again, wiping his eyes. “Em….” Laugh. “I don’t even think her feet touched ground.”
He’s right about that.
I turn to face my mom. “I was attacked by a flying roach,” I screech, shuddering. “It crawled on my face and then fell down my shirt.” I shudder again. Just the thought of it crawling on me…. Bwah!
Mom’s lips roll inward between her teeth, clearly fighting back her own laughter. Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she gives me a once-over, taking in my appearance. “It looks like it.”
I narrow my eyes in warning but it’s too late. A loud laugh rips from her throat as she leans against Bass, prompting his laughter to continue and urging the rest of the people who’ve joined us in the kitchen to start laughing.
“I’m glad you all find my traumatic experience hilarious.” I raise an eyebrow and turn to B. “We’ll see how it goes, huh?” I gesture to the two dudes standing in my kitchen who are trying not to laugh. “It looks like you’ve already made that decision.” I’m not sticking around for an explanation. Bass can explain when I’m ready to speak to him again.
I turn on my heels and stomp toward the stairs, pouting like a child. “I’m going to take another shower.” Or three. “You’re all fired,” I call over my shoulder, which earns me another round of laughter. “Except Grace,” I add. “She feeds me.”
I OPEN MY eyes when Justin Timberlake’s “Can’t Stop This Feeling” starts playing from the small round speakers in the ceiling. My bedroom door swings open and Mom dances her way into the room, holding her cell phone as a microphone. I’ve come to the realization that the only way that phone will ever leave her hands is if she has it surgically removed. She dances her way over to my bed, climbs on top of the mattress, and proceeds to sway her hips to the beat, shaking me awake. My mom loves her some JT.
A minute later, Bass dances his way into my room. Of course, he doesn’t jump on my bed because his big ass would break it. Mom leaps onto his back and they dance their way out of my room.
Freaks.
I groan as I toss the covers back.
I feel like crap.
I tossed and turned the entire night because I kept feeling like I had bugs crawling all over me. I shudder at the thought. And I haven’t forgotten about them all laughing. I mean, come on. It was a flying roach. That’s just freaking gross. The only upside to the bug attack was that I forgot about starting my first day of high school.
Until now.
I’m not particularly shy, but I’m out of my element here, my comfort zone. But I’m also nervous and excited to see the work of the Mayhem Foundation.
The school uniforms are the basic navy and green plaid skirt, white oxford, a tapered navy blue blazer—which is only required during the cooler months or special assemblies—navy knee socks and navy spanks bottoms, like the cheerleaders wear under their skirts.
Fridays are spirit days, which means we can wear whatever we want if it’s within the dress code.
Dressed in my uniform, I slip my feet into a pair of navy Tory Burch ballet flats and make my way into the bathroom. I keep my makeup minimal, brushing on a coat of mascara and swiping on nude lip gloss. My hair is pulled up into a high ponytail and I finish off with diamond stud earrings and necklace, my watch, and my diamond “Love” bracelet, which never comes off.
MOM IS AT the counter drinking coffee and looking at her phone. Grace is at the stove, swaying her hips to Shawn Mendes’ “Stitches.”
“Look at my girl, Grace,” Mom says as I walk into the kitchen. “Doesn’t she look adorable in her uniform.”
Grace turns away from the stove to take in my attire. I give her a little twirl. “Good morning, Grace.”
“Hermosa,” she says with an affectionate smile. Grace speaks fluent English, but every so often when she gets excited she busts out the Spanish.
I drop a kiss to her cheek as I take a coffee mug from the cabinet. I’m not one of those people who needs coffee to function, but after the night I had, I’m going to need the caffeine today.
“Are you ready for your first day of school?” Grace asks excitedly.
“I’m nervous about school, but I’m really excited to see the new Project Mayhem building.” I lean back against the counter, gripping my coffee with both hands.
“It’s called the performing arts building,” Mom corrects me.
Meghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass” starts playing and right on cue Bass slides into the kitchen and starts breaking it down. I snort and almost choke on my hot coffee. Morning dance parties used to be the norm for us back in California, before my dad’s health took a turn for the worse.
“B, can you believe our girl is going off to school?” Mom asks.
“Good morning, Princess.” Bass kisses the top of my head as he reaches past me for a coffee mug.
I roll my eyes and move over to the island. “You guys act like this is my first day of kindergarten or something.”
“No, but it’s still a big deal. For you and for me.”
“And me,” Bass says, turning to lean against the counter.
“Me, too,” Grace chimes in as she sets our breakfast platters in the middle of the island.
I grab a plate and load it up with bacon and blueberry pancakes. Mmm.
“It’s going to feel weird not having you around for seven hours a day.” She scrunches her nose, almost as if she hadn’t thought this through. “I’m gonna miss my little girl.” She pushes out her bottom lip.
I swear, if she starts crying I’m gonna whip one of these pancakes at her head.
“Are the skirts supposed to be that short?” Bass asks, eyeing my skirt over his mug.
I roll my eyes and stuff a pancake in my mouth as I move over to the barstool.
“That’s the uniform, B. She’s just got long legs.”
“Besides, I’m wearing these.” I stand up and lift my skirt to show him the spanks.
“Jayla!” Mom laughs as Bass sputters and covers his eyes.
“Chill, B. These things cover more than my bikini bottoms, and probably my running shorts. These are what the cheerleaders wear under their skirts.”
Bass shakes his head and looks down at his watch. “We need to get going, Princess. You’re supposed to meet Principal Avery at seven thirty.”
I look down at my watch. Seven fifteen. “Crap. I’ll meet you in the car.” I stuff one last pancake in my mouth and grab a strip of bacon on my way out of the kitchen before heading back upstairs to brush my teeth and grab my bag.
Climbing into the passenger seat, I pull on my seat belt and search for a decent radio station as Bass backs the Denali out of the garage and eases down the driveway. The Calling’s “Wherever You Will Go” is playing on one of the local Top Forty stations, bringing an instant smile to my face. I glance sideways at Bass to see him pressing the volume button on the steering wheel. My dad loved this song; he performed a cover on the new Jaybird album.
“I was thinking we could go car shopping after school,” Bass suggests.
“Is this your way of apologizing for laughing at me last night, after I was attacked by that vicious, flying beast?”
Bass guffaws. “I’ve never seen you run so fast.”
I twist my lips to the side to hide my smile. “How about I make it easy on both of us? I liked driving dad’s Range Rover, so if you can find me one in white, fully loaded, with a good radio, I’ll be a happy girl. I don’t care about rims and all that. I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Well, that was easy. I’ll make some calls.”