A Single Glance (Irresistible Attraction #1)(6)

Before I can stand up on shaky legs, he’s standing in the doorway, tall and lanky as most eleventh-graders are. But Jake is taller. His eyes softer. His hands hold a shock in them that gets me every time he reaches for my calculator in class.

“Jake.” His name comes from me in surprise as I struggle to lift myself.

“Emmy.” The way he says my name sounds so sad. “I heard you were sick.”





I read the prologue and the first chapter too before falling asleep on the old sofa that used to belong to my mother. I’m cocooned in the blanket I once wrapped my sister in when the drugs she’d taken made her shake uncontrollably.

The only sentence Jenny underlined was the one that read, “I’m invincible.”

Jenny, I wish you had been. I wish I were too.





Bethany





My eyes feel so heavy. So dry and itchy.

Rubbing them only makes it hurt worse.

I would have slept better had I worked. I know I would have.

My gaze drifts back to the book. I’m only a few chapters in, but I keep walking away from the pages, not remembering where I left off and starting over each time.

Knowing I can’t focus on work, knowing it’s been taken away, has brought out a different side of me.

The side that remembers my sister.

Not the way she was in the last few years, but the way she was when we were younger.

When we were thick as thieves, and my older sister was my hero. Those memories keep coming back every time I read the chapters written from Emmy’s perspective. She’s young, and sweet, but so damn strong. My sister was strong once. Held down by no one.

Once upon a time.

Letting out a deep breath, I stretch my back, pushing the torn-up book onto my coffee table. I sit there, looking out the front bay window of my house. The curtains are closed, but not tightly and I catch a glimpse of a car pull up.

A nice car. An expensive one.

All black with tinted windows. Jenny came home in a car like that once, shaken and crying. Back when all of her troubles started. My blood runs cold as the car stops in front of my house.

If it’s someone she was associated with, I don’t want them here.

Anger simmers, but it’s futile. You can only be angry for so long.

Once it’s gone, fear has a way of creeping into its place.

My pace is slow, quiet and deliberate as I head to my coat closet and reach up to a backpack I haven’t used in years. I figured it would be the perfect place to hide the gun. The one Jenny brought home for me, the one she said I needed when she wouldn’t listen to me and refused to stay. I was screaming at her as she shoved it into my chest and told me I needed to take it.

It was only weeks ago that my sister stood right here and gave me a gun to protect myself, when she was the one who needed help. She needed protecting.



Jase





I can’t handle one more thing going wrong.

My keys jingle as the ignition turns off and the soft rumble of the engine is silenced.

Wiping a hand over my face, I get out of the car, not caring that the door slams as my shoes hit the pavement. The neighborhood is quiet and each row of streets is littered with picture-perfect homes, nothing like the home I grew up in. Little townhouses of raised ranches, complete with paved driveways and perfectly trimmed bushes. A few houses have fences, white picket of course, but not 34 Holley, the home of Bethany Fawn.

Other than the missing fence, the two-story home could be plucked straight from an issue of Better Homes & Gardens.

Knock, knock, knock. She’s in there; I can hear her. Time passes without anything save the sound of scuttling behind the door, but just as I’m about to knock again, the door opens a few inches. Only enough to reveal a glimpse of her.

Her chestnut hair falls in wavy locks around her face. She brushes the fallen strands back to peek up at me.

“Yes?” she questions, and my lips threaten to twitch into a smirk.

“Bethany?”

Her weight shifts behind the door as her gaze travels down the length of my body and then back up before she answers me.

The amber in her hazel eyes swirls with distrust as she tells me, “My friends call me Beth.”

“Sorry, I’m Jase. Jase Cross. We haven’t met before... but I’ll happily call you Beth.” The flirtatious words slip from me easily, and slowly her guard falls although what’s left behind is a mix of worry and agony. She doesn’t answer or respond in any way other than to tighten her grip on the door.

“Mind if I have a minute?”

She purses her full lips slightly as the cracked door opens just an inch more, enough for her to cautiously reply, “Depends on what you’re here for.”

My pulse quickens. I’m here to give her a single warning. Just one chance to stay the hell away from The Red Room and to get over whatever ill wishes she has for my brothers and me.

It’s a shame, really; she’s fucking gorgeous. There’s an innocence, yet a fight in her that’s just as evident and even more alluring. Had I met her on other terms, I would do just about anything to get her under me and screaming my name.

But after this past week with Carter and all that bullshit, I made my decision. No distractions.

The swirling colors in her eyes darken as her gaze dances over mine. As if she can read my thoughts, and knows the wicked things I’d do to her that no one else ever could. But that’s not why I’m here, and my perversions will have to wait for someone else.