Cece & David 2: Love In Many Shades, #2

By Nia Arthurs

Sometimes escaping the friendzone is the easy part.

 

This is the summer I take our friendship to the next level.
Cece is mine. My heart. My soul. My everything.
Our love story officially begins now.
It starts with a dance.
A tender kiss.
And then ends in tragedy.
I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Not for us.
The road to happily ever after isn't always paved smoothly. 
And this time, more than our friendship is at stake. 
After the dust settles, one question remains.
Can there ever be a David without Cece?  
 

Cece & David is a tender AMBW coming-of-age romance set in Belize, featuring a strong, silent hero and his gorgeous best friend.

 

***Read all the novels in the Love In Many Shades Series***

Cece & David 

Cece & David 2

Cece & David 3

Cece & David 4

Haley & Rylin 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nia Arthurs
• Release date: Jun 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9798201993214

Book preview

Prologue

The wind howled like a ravenous monster unleashed for the first time in centuries.

Rain bashed the dirt at an angle, pounding the earth in slanted droplets that seemed to form a giant fist.

 A dark cloud swirled above a small Chinese store. It deposited rain drops through the barred semi-circle.

A tall boy of about nineteen years peeked out from the innards of the shop. He grabbed a rag as he spoke and sopped up the rain water gathering on the counter.

 I doubt anyone will try to brave this storm, Rider.

Rider joined the teenager at the window. He too dipped his head past the bars and observed the dark, lonely street.

Pursing his lips in thought, he jerked back when the rain slammed his face with insistent tears.

"Ah, you’re probably right. On the bright side, we won’t be crowded tonight. Less customers gives me more time to enjoy my Sunday night episode of Empress of China."

Rider dried his face and whirled around, turning on the television mounted on a bracket next to the security monitor.

The young man ran a hand through his black hair and continued to dry the counter. Wow? That soap opera again, Rider?

It is not a soap opera.

Whatever you say. The young man wrung the damp cloth into a bucket. His small, slanted eyes appraised the set up of the shop.

Rows of colorful canned goods lined the shelves built high on the walls. Beneath the counter held a variety of snacks including candies, biscuits, and chips. A large freezer took up the entire width of a wall. Just above the fridge, two monitors blinked. The opening theme song of Rider’s show rang through the space.

Frowning lightly, Rider turned the volume up to compete with the rain dancing boisterously against the zinc roof.

Could you turn that down a bit? the teenager asked, settling into a chair behind the cash register and pulling out his cell phone.

Rider ignored his cousin, his gaze glued to the television screen.

The young man narrowed his eyes, but a slow smile split his face when he noted a new text message on his phone. He read it and the light in his smile dimmed.

The boy bit his lip, his expression harried.

Rider glanced to the left and recognized the look. Trouble in paradise?

That’s none of your business.

Rider leaned back, offering his two cents. I think you should just grab her, kiss the socks off her and say ‘there!’ See what she does.

Yes, I’ll be sure to take advice from the guy who backed out of three arranged marriages.

Hey! Rider yelled. That’s two arranged marriages. Leslie doesn’t count. My mom was pushing that. We weren’t actually engaged.

The young man snorted and glanced at his phone again.

I’m sure you two will be fine, Rider insisted.

Yeah, I hope so.

A thud echoed in the night.

What was that? Rider jerked up.

Both men were on edge. The young man’s brown eyes grew alert and he stood slowly, inching forward to see if a customer had arrived in the storm.

I’ll check the back, Rider whispered. Fear singed the atmosphere like thick smoke.

The boy searched for a weapon. Finding only a crow bar in the furthest corner of the store, he whistled for Rider. His cousin spun and extended his arm, barely catching the iron bar in his hand.

Be careful.

Rider nodded and crept toward the back. After he left, the second proprietor peered outside and patiently analyzed the empty road.

The streetlamp across the yard had disappeared in the grey of the deluge. The rain continued to slap against the sidewalk and nourished the drains on either side of the highway.

There was no one there.

The young man held his chest and chuckled. Hey, Rider. It was just a false alarm.

Silence met his sheepish admission.

Rider?

The boy crept toward the back door. The sound of the rain thundered in his ears as the quiet sharpened his senses.

Blood pounded in his chest and adrenaline fed his fear.

The lights dimmed.

He gazed upward, suspecting that the storm had caused the bulbs to flicker. The timing, however, could not have been worse.

If this is a joke, it’s a terrible one, the young man mumbled, wishing now that he’d brought a weapon with him just in case.

In the darkness, he heard a groan and Rider’s soft voice cautioning. Wait… don’t…

The young man turned his head toward the sound and saw a figure lying on the ground. He rushed to Rider’s side. Are you okay?

A new voice jarred the cousins’ reunion. Put your hands up!

In the flickering darkness, the young man noted two thick men dressed all in black. Black handkerchiefs covered their mouths and matched the hue of their eyes.

The first thug gripped a Glock in his beefy paw. With widened eyes and a voice muffled by the cloth, the bigger man extended his firearm and pointed it toward the teenager on the floor.

Give me all of your money and you won’t get hurt, he threatened.

The young man raised his arms in surrender and stood up, hoping to draw attention away from his cousin. Okay. It’s over here. Just come over here. He successfully brought the two robbers deeper into the shop.

Not so fast! The gunman shouted when the boy’s hands darted toward the till.

I’m just opening the register.

Slow and steady, the second gunman insisted, glaring at the boy with dark eyes.

The young man slowly counted out the money in the till with one hand, using the sluggish pace to hide his activity with the other.

Hurry up!

The boy appraised the robbers, trying to hide his fear. You just told me to go slow and steady. Now I should hurry up? Which is it?

His statement angered the thugs and earned him a smack in the side of the mouth. The punch loosened the boy’s hold on the phone and the device skittered across the floor.

Shut up and just hand it to us! The thieves demanded.

The young man did as he was told and the gunmen grabbed their loot, heading for the exit.

A police officer was waiting in the doorway.

Stop right there! he yelled. Rider, soaked to the skin, breathed hard behind the lawman.

Instead of heeding the officer’s call, the first gunman pointed his weapon and pulled the trigger.

The gun went off with a ‘bang’.

The officer stumbled.

Rider caught the lawman in his arms and whimpered as the gunmen prepared to shoot at him next.

Nooo! the boy shouted.

Desperately, he pushed the gunman down. The thug fell face forward and lay still. The second thief whirled around, but the boy was prepared for a fight.

He swung his arm, feeling all the fear, rage and helplessness slip into his chest and snake down into his fists.

The gunman and the boy struggled, fighting for control of the pistol.

Just before lightning struck, a loud boom filled the air. At first, the boy assumed thunder had followed the lightning strike.

When the thug he’d been fighting suddenly released him and ran into the night, he felt a stinging pain and realized that the noise had not been thunder.

The boy slumped to the ground near the back stoop. Heaven’s tears ran red, mingling with the blood snaking away from the boy on the ground.

The liquid moved with purpose, trekking down the short stairs leading to the street.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Then the thunder came.

It cracked the sky in half merging with the sound of Rider’s frantic shouts. The storm tried to wash away the stain forming on the street.

Raindrops battered the concrete, pleading with the earth to soak in the moisture and hide what it meant from the world.

Still the blood pooled.

Still the river ran red.

Part 1

David Lin

Chapter 1

TWO MONTHS EARLIER…

David! Mom called from downstairs. Cece’s here!

I grinned and strode for the door. Just before turning the lock, I ran back to the bathroom and appraised my reflection in the mirror.

My hair was messy, the way it always was. The way she liked it.

I ran my fingers through the straight, black strands just in case.

There wasn’t much that I could do about the rest of my face. The slanted shape of my brown eyes was permanent. My nose was long and my lips thin. My chin slightly pointed.

Cece’s nickname for me was ‘pretty boy’ because of my smooth cheeks and jaw line.

At nineteen, I still had no hope of growing any type of facial hair. The thought slipped through my mind as I adjusted the front of my red T-shirt and frowned at my reflection.

What was I doing?

This was Cece. My best friend since the day she stood up for me in a dusty school yard.

I knew her deepest, darkest secrets and she knew mine. Our friendship was one that had spanned the test of time. I had no reason to feel nervous.

The thud of footsteps bounded up the stairs, and I quickly gurgled some mouthwash anyway.

My bedroom door flung open.

Knock, knock!

Hey. I emerged from the bathroom and smiled at Cece.

Hey. She strode confidently to my bed and sat on the edge of my mattress. She wore a loose sleeveless blouse and black shorts, leaving her toned legs on display.

Her long, curly hair had been pulled up into a bun, exposing the delicate features of her cocoa brown face. The gold bracelet on her hand glinted in the afternoon sunlight when she patted the space beside her and urged me to sit down.

I did.

What’s up?

Prepare to love me, she announced, her eyes bright.

I leaned forward, curious. After her hospital confession last year and my involvement with Lacey Wu, Cece and I had separated.

Our relationship had suffered and we’d lost touch with each other for months. Earlier this year, we repaired our friendship and slowly returned to a place of easy banter.

Cece played with her bangle, an unconscious sign of her excitement. Remember the other day, when we talked about making the most of our summer before heading off to college?

Yeah? I nodded. Cece and I had both been accepted by the University of the West Indies. We were leaving for the Jamaican campus in a few weeks.

Here it comes! Cece yelled. I signed us up for dancing lessons!

What!

You said that wrong. Cece’s grin widened. It’s supposed to be ‘whaaat!’ with more umph.

Whaaat!

Exactly.

C, you know I can’t dance.

Right. Neither can I. We’ll both learn.

What kind of dancing? I asked, grudgingly accepting the inevitability of the lessons.

I would do anything for Cece.

My dislike for activities requiring hand-eye-rhythmic coordination could go to the back burner.

Hip-hop.

The blood drained from my face.

That was, perhaps, the most impossible genre of movement that I could ever hope to learn.

Yay, I said drily.

I can tell that you’re not convinced, but trust me. She nudged my shoulder. This will be fun. I promise. If it’s not, we can quit.

You sure?

Yeah. I just want to try it out. Do something new. Not that I don’t love your plan of watching old movies all summer.

I’m not giving up that dream.

"I don’t mind. We can fit in the dance classes and the movies. They’re twice a week down at the civic center.

Okay, I groused, since it meant so much to her. If you’ve already signed us up I guess it won’t hurt to take a few classes. As long as you’re sure that we can quit if I hate it.

You got it. She winked. And it won’t interfere with your shifts at the store.

Good.

She scooted to the middle of my bed and reached for the picture of the two us on my