Rival(119)

Jax’s hot breath on my neck, my hair a tangled mess around my body, my clothes ripped apart on the floor as he bit my lips and made me sweat.

Oh, Jesus. I sucked in a breath and looked away, narrowing my eyes to get my damn head under control. What the hell?

But then Jax laughed and dropped his hand. Not a sympathetic laugh. Not a laugh that said he was just kidding. No, it was a laugh that told me I was the joke. “Don’t worry, K.C.” He smiled, looking down on me like I was pathetic. “I’m well aware you’re too precious for me, okay?”

Excuse me?

“You know what?” I shot out, my face cracking. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you actually make Jared look like a gentleman.”

And the little shit grinned. “I love my brother, but he and I are nothing alike.”

Yeah, I know. My heart didn’t pound around Jared. The hair on my arms didn’t stand on end around him, either. I wasn’t conscious of where he was and what he was doing every second that we were in the same room together. Jax and Jared were very different.

“Tattoos,” I muttered.

“What?”

Shit! Did I just say that out loud?

“Um . . .” I choked out, staring wide-eyed in front of me, which just happened to be at his bare chest. “Tattoos. Jared has them. You don’t. How come?” I asked, finally looking up.

His eyebrows inched together, but he didn’t look angry. It was more . . . befuddled.

Jared’s back, shoulder, arm, and part of his torso were covered with tattoos. Even Jared and Jax’s best friend, Madoc, had one. You would think with those influences, Jax would have gotten at least one by now, but he hadn’t. His long, sculpted torso was unmarked.

I waited as he stared at me and then licked his lips. “I have lots of tattoos,” he whispered, so quiet. “Too many.”

I don’t know what I saw in his eyes, but I knew I’d never seen it before. It could have been sadness or loss, or maybe it was fear. All I knew was that it wasn’t the usual Jax.

Backing away, he wouldn’t meet my eyes as he turned and left the house. He closed the door, locked it, and walked down the porch steps quietly.

Moments later, I heard Jared’s Boss and Liam’s Camaro fire up and speed down the dark street.

And an hour later, I was still lying awake in Tate’s bed, running my finger over the spot he’d touched on my collarbone and wondering about the Jaxon Trent that I never got to know.





Two years later . . .

Shelburne Falls was an average-sized town in northern Illinois. Not too small but barely big enough to have its own mall. To the naked eye, it was picturesque. Sweet in its no-two-homes-are-alike originality and welcoming in its can-I-help-you-carry-your-groceries-to-the-car kind of way.

Secrets were kept behind closed doors, of course, and there were always too many prying eyes. But skies were blue, leaves rustling in the wind sounded like a natural symphony, and kids still played outside rather than staying inside zoned out on video games all of the time.

I loved it here.

But I also hated who I was here. When I had left for college two years ago, I made a promise to spend every day trying to be better than I was. I was going to be an attentive girlfriend, a trustworthy friend, and a perfect daughter.

I rarely came home, choosing to spend last summer counseling at a summer camp in Oregon and visiting my roommate, Nik, at her home in San Diego. My mother got to brag about my busy lifestyle, and my old friends really didn’t seem to miss me, so it all worked out.

Shelburne Falls wasn’t a bad place. It was perfect actually. But I was less than perfect here, and I didn’t want to come home until I could show all of them that I was stronger, tougher, and smarter.

Yeah, that shit blew up in my face.

Not only did I breeze into town much sooner than I wanted, but it was on the heels of a court order. Awesome impression, K.C.

My phone rang, and I blinked, sucking in a breath as I came out of my thoughts. Adjusting the covers, I sat up in bed and slid the screen on my pink iPhone.

“Tate, hi.” I smiled. “You’re up early.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Her cheerful voice was a relief.

“You didn’t.” I swung my legs out of bed and stood up, stretching. “I was just getting up.”

Tate had been my best friend all through high school. She still was, I guess. During senior year, I may have pissed her off a little. Okay, for sure I pissed her off. A lot. Ever since then, she’s kept about two feet of personal space between us when I’m around, and I don’t blame her. I messed up, and I hadn’t manned up to ask for her forgiveness.