Текст книги "Stealing Harper"

Автор книги: Molly McAdams

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t get in here with me!”

He chuckled, “It’s my bed, I’m sure I can do what I want.”

I know he couldn’t see me, but I glared at him anyway. Flipping the cover off me, I grabbed a pillow and sank down to the floor.

“Get back in the bed Princess.”

I scoffed at my nickname but didn’t say anything. I could feel his eyes boring into my back and after what felt like an eternity, heard him sigh and the bed shift. I wanted to ask for a blanket but was too stubborn to ask. Next thing I knew I was in the air.

“Oh my word! Put me down!”

He dropped me onto the bed and crawled over me.

“Chase! No!”

“Calm down, I’ll stay on my side. We can even put a pillow between us if it’ll make you feel better.” He snickered.

I grumbled and scooted to the edge of the bed. Obviously I’ve never been in a bed with a guy before, and the fact that he was inches away had my whole body shaking. “I swear if you touch me, I’ll go Lorena Bobbitt on you.”

It didn’t take him long to figure out what I was referring to. He put a pillow over his face to muffle his booming laugh. “Oh my God! Princess! You’re my new favorite!”

“That wasn’t a joke.”

His body was still shaking with silent laughs as he moved closer and trailed his fingers up my arm. “One of these days, you’ll be begging for me to touch you.”

I couldn’t tell if my next shiver was out of pleasure or disgust but I still growled at him and slapped his hand away. “I’m serious Chase. I’m not like all those girls I saw you with tonight.”

“That’s an understatement.” He rolled back to his side of the bed and sighed, “Get some sleep Princess, I’ll see you in the morning.”

2

MY EYES SHOT open the next morning when I felt something squeeze me. Looking down I saw tattoos trailing down to a muscled forearm that was wrapped securely around my waist and gasped when I remembered I’d slept in Chase’s bed last night. I jumped out from under his arm and off his bed in a move so fast it had my head spinning. My heart took off again as I took in Chase’s shirtless body. His tattoos expanded up his shoulders and for some reason I wanted to trace them with my fingers and splay my hands across his well-defined abs and chest. Dear me, this man was gorgeous.

Chase sat up cursing until he realized who I was. “Jesus Princess! You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought I had a girl in here.” He flopped back onto his pillow, raking his hands over his face.

That snapped me back to reality. “Chase?”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry you didn’t seem to notice, but I am a girl.”

He dropped his hands and scowled at me but still proceeded to slowly take in my body. My cheeks were bright red by the time he looked back up. “I noticed last night, trust me.” My question mark face must have prompted the rest of his response. “I meant, I thought I let a girl stay the night with me.”

“Uh . . . ?”

“Someone I’d been with Princess. I thought I banged a girl and let her stay here.”

“Oh.”

He snorted. “Sorry, is that too much for your PG ears?”

“No, I just don’t understand why that would be a bad thing.”

Sighing deeply he propped himself up on an elbow and looked directly into my eyes. “Girls I screw around with aren’t allowed to come in my room, let alone stay the night. This is the only place that is mine, and I’m not about to share it with them.”

“So you sleep with women and then make them leave?” I didn’t even want to ask where he slept with them.

“No, I screw women . . . and then make them leave.”

I shook my head and walked toward the door, “You’re a pig.”

He laughed once without humor and watched me leave.

When I got out to the living room I saw Breanna at the kitchen table with a housemate, as soon as they saw me the conversation stopped. I hadn’t known I could feel even more awkward, guess so.

Looking at me sheepishly, Bree stood from her chair and pulled me toward the living room. “Harper, I’m so sorry. Brad just told me everything.” Her voice broke at the end. “I swear I would never intentionally do something to embarrass you. I know we just met but I’ve been looking forward to living with you and I can’t believe I hurt you like that after just meeting you.”

“Really, it’s fine. I’ve heard enough stories that I figured you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“It’s not fine! You should hate me.”

I nodded and looked over at Brad who was grinning at me. “Well I don’t plan on seeing any of these guys ever again, so there’s no use in making you suffer with me.” I smiled at her, trying to make light of the situation.

Although I was still humiliated, I’d never been one to hold a grudge, and I wasn’t about to start now. I had wanted to come start a new life here, and even though I seem to have taken five steps back, I was still determined to make this the best experience ever. Embarrassing moment or not, it’s not like I had a lot of options here. Either let this get to me and cower away from people, or hold my head high and push forward.

She still looked sullen and it was making me uncomfortable. “Well at least people don’t think I’m a whore.”

That brought on a smile which turned into a light laugh. “You’re a glass half full kind of person, aren’t you?”

“Definitely.”

Hugging me tightly before walking back to her cup of coffee she said, “At least let me buy you one new outfit.”

“Hah! I won’t stop you. Are you sure you’re up for that today though? I figured you wouldn’t be up for much of anything after last night.”

“Sweetie, I’m always up for shopping. Go change, I’m ready when you are.”

I walked back into Chase’s room to find it empty, after shedding his basketball shorts I quickly stepped into Bree’s skirt. Before I could pull it up, the door swung open and Chase walked in.

“It’s really a shame you don’t let anyone see that sexy little body.”

Blushing fifty shades of red, I pulled them up and turned to face him.

“Calm down, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow making it disappear under his shaggy blond hair. “Not saying I wouldn’t want to see yours.”

“Bite me.” I pushed past him toward the door.

“Is that an invitation?”

“Not even close.”

He grabbed my waist, and pulled me against his chest, his nose skimming along my jaw, “One of these days Princess, I promise you.”

I turned to scowl at him once more, “I would never be desperate enough to want you.” Okay that was a lie; my breaths were already quickening just feeling his sculpted body pressed against mine.

His smile was slow and sexy, “We’ll see.”

BREANNA AND I were lying on our beds in the dorm room after an epic six hour shopping trip at an outdoor mall. As promised, I let her pick out all my outfits, and she paid for one of them. Now that we were done, I was regretting how much money I’d spent, but I’d just bought fifteen different shirts, four pairs of jeans, a couple pairs of ultra-short shorts and skirts, three sexy but cute dresses and five pairs of shoes. After that was done we headed to Victoria’s Secret, and I blushed my way through the entire store while she picked out all my new underwear, bras and sleeping clothes. Our last stop of the day was at Sephora where we basically purchased my own make-up counter after Bree swore to teach me how to put it all on. And for all that? I think I did pretty well. The only thing Sir had let me do growing up was work at one of the Post Exchanges. Not that kids my age were generally allowed to, but everyone knew our situation so I started there when I was twelve and had saved every cent.

“I’m. So. Exhausted.”

“It was so worth it though! Now you’re finally ready for college.”

Looking at the garbage bags full of most of my old clothes I laughed and let my head fall back onto my pillow. “I think you’re right.”

“Now we just need to get you comfortable being around cute guys and you’ll be golden. What’s your type?”

Your brother. “Um, I’m not sure I have a type.”

“So no preferences? Hair color, eye color, skin color? Athlete, geek, musician?”

Rugged surfer, with dirty blond shaggy hair, impossibly blue eyes, the most breathtaking smile you’ve ever seen and cover him in tattoos. I’ll take that, please? “Nope, none. We’ll just have to start from scratch.”

Just thinking about his tattoos had me biting my lip and fantasizing again about tracing them with my fingers. He was exactly the kind of guy Sir would hate, so naturally I was drawn to him.

“Hey Bree?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s kind of something I’ve wanted to do for a whi– You know what, never mind.”

She sat up on her knees bouncing, “No you don’t! You have to tell me now. You’ve wanted to do what?”

“Well there’s a lot of things. But it’d probably be a bad idea to do them all at once. I should spread them out, and think about them more.”

“I’m waiting Harper.”

I sighed and scooted up against the wall, “I want to get a couple piercings.”

“Pfft, I thought you were about to say something juicier than that.” Figures she wouldn’t be excited, each of her ears had four piercings.

I frowned at her.

“Okay, okay! What piercings do you want?”

“Um, I don’t know what they’re called. But here, and here.” I pointed a finger to my upper lip, and another to my ear.

“Oh cute! Your lip is called a Monroe, and your ear is a tragus. I actually really want my lip pierced too! Do you want to go get them done together sometime?”

I looked down before stealing a sideways glance, “Could we maybe go right now? Eighteen years of not being able to do what I want, I’m kind of impatient.”

“Harper, I’m pretty sure we’re going to be best friends.” Without another word she shot off her bare mattress and headed for the door. Guess that means we’re going.

I’m really glad she knew the area, because she drove right to a tattoo parlor, and after chatting it up with the piercer, we were sitting in his room picking out the studs before I could even think about this possibly being a bad idea. To my surprise, I wasn’t even nervous ’til I was sitting on his chair and he was putting the markers on me. “Oh my God, Breanna I need your hand.”

She laughed and sauntered up to me.

“Don’t laugh, you’re next.” That shut her up.

“Okay deep breath in.” The piercer said, “Annnnd blow out.” After he finished putting the one in my ear, he opened up a new packet and got to work on my lip. “Another deep breath in . . . and blow out.”

My eyes were watering, but thankfully it was done. I glanced in the mirror and a huge smile crossed my face, I absolutely loved them.

“Oh my God those are perfect for you! Ahh. I’m so excited for mine now!” Bree had also decided to get her tragus pierced so we both were getting two, but she and the piercer had agreed her bottom lip would be better for the way her mouth was set.

Another ten minutes and hers were done, I made her eat her words when she grabbed my hand at the last minute and squeezed until I thought I’d never get the circulation flowing again. We paid the guy and ran to her car, looking into the visor mirrors before we left.

“Are your parents going to mind?”

“What? No way. Have you seen my brother? They love his tattoos so they aren’t going to care about this. Besides I’m pretty sure I couldn’t get them mad at me even if I tried.” She laughed, “Let me guess, daddy’s gonna be pissed?”

“Ha! Yeah, I’m almost positive he’s going to try to rip them out. Good thing I’m not going home for ten months!”

“Ten months?! What are you doing for winter break?”

I shrugged, “Stay here. It wouldn’t be much different than being there. We don’t spend much time together if we’re in the same house.”

“Jeez Harper, you had the most depressing childhood didn’t you?”

“Not really, I mean it’s all I’ve ever known. I thought it was normal until a few weeks ago when you and I started e-mailing.” I think I need to stop talking about my past, because I always seem to depress everyone. “So . . . dinner?”

She smiled and turned to glance at me, “You read my mind roomie, let’s grab some burgers then we can stay at my house tonight. We’ll move my stuff into the dorm tomorrow.”

FROM ASHES

1

Cassidy

“DO YOU EVEN know anyone who’s going to be there, Ty?”

“Just Gage. But this will be good, this way we’ll be able to meet new people right away.”

I grumbled to myself. I wasn’t the best at making friends; they didn’t understand my need to always be near Tyler, and when I’d show up with bruises or stitches, everyone automatically thought I was either hurting myself or Tyler and I were in an abusive relationship. Of course that wasn’t their fault; we never responded to them, so the rumors continued to fly.

“Cassi, no one will have any idea about your past, the last of your bruises will be gone in a few weeks, and you’re gone from there now. Besides, I hate that you don’t have anyone else. Trust me, I understand it, but I hate it for you. You need more people in your life.”

“I know.” I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, covering where some of the bruises were. Thank God none were visible right now unless I stripped down to my skivvies, but I couldn’t say the same for some of the scars. At least scars were normal on a person, and the worst of them were covered by my clothes, so I just looked like I was accident-prone.

“Hey.” Tyler grabbed one of my hands, taking it away from my side. “It’s over, it will never happen again. And I’m always here for you, whether you make new friends or not. I’m here. But at least try. This is your chance at starting a new life—isn’t that what that favorite bird of yours is all about anyway?”

“The phoenix isn’t a real bird, Ty.”

“Whatever, it’s your favorite. Isn’t that what they symbolize? New beginnings?”

“Rebirth and renewal,” I muttered.

“Yeah, same thing. They die only to come back and start a new life, right? This is us starting a new life, Cass.” He shook his head slightly and his face went completely serious. “But don’t spontaneously burst into flames and die. I love you too much and a fire wouldn’t be good for the leather seats.”

I huffed a laugh and shoved his shoulder with my free hand. “You’re such a punk, Ty; way to kill the warm and fuzzy moment you had going there.”

He laughed out loud. “In all seriousness”—he kissed my hand, then met and held my gaze for a few seconds before looking back at the road—“new life, Cassi, and it starts right now.”

Tyler and I weren’t romantically involved, but we had a relationship that even people we’d grown up with didn’t understand.

We grew up just a house away from each other, in a country club neighborhood. Both our fathers were doctors; our moms were the kind that stayed home with the kids and spent afternoons at the club gossiping and drinking martinis. On my sixth birthday, my dad died from a heart attack—while he was at work of all places. Now that I’m older, I don’t understand how no one was able to save him; he worked in the ER, for crying out loud, and no one was able to save him? But at the time, I just knew my hero was gone.

Dad worked long hours, but I was his princess, and when he was home, it was just the two of us. He’d brave tiaras and boas to have tea parties with me; he knew the names of all of my stuffed animals, talked to them like they would respond; and he would always be the one to tell me stories at night. My mom was amazing, but she knew we had a special relationship, so she always stayed in the door frame, watching and smiling. Whenever I would get hurt, if he was at work, Mom would make a big show of how she couldn’t make it better, and I’d have to hang on for dear life until Dad got home. She must have called him, because he would run into the house like I was dying—even though it was almost always just a scratch—pick me up, and place a Band-Aid wherever I was hurt, and miraculously I was all better. Like I said, my dad was my hero. Every little girl needs a dad like that. But now, other than precious memories, all I have left of him is his love for the phoenix. Mom had let Dad have his way with a large outline of a phoenix painted directly above my bed for when I started kindergarten, a painting that’s still there today, though Mom constantly threatened to paint over it. And although I tried to keep a ring he’d had all his adult life with a phoenix on it, my mom had found and hidden it not long after he died, and I hadn’t seen it since.

My mom started drinking obsessively when he died. Her morning coffee always had rum in it, by ten in the morning she was making margaritas, she’d continue to go to the club for martinis, and by the time I was home from school, she was drinking scotch or vodka straight out of the bottle. She made time for her girlfriends but stopped waking me up for school, stopped making me food, forgot to pick me up from school—pretty much just forgot I even existed. After that first day of being forgotten at school, and the next day not showing up because she wouldn’t leave her room, Tyler’s mom, Stephanie, started taking me to and from school without a word. She knew my mom was grieving, just not the extent of it.

After a week with no clean clothes and a few rounds of trial and error, I began doing my own laundry, attempted to figure out my homework by myself, and would make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for both of us, always leaving one outside her bedroom door. Almost a year after Dad’s death, Jeff came into the picture. He was rich, ran some big company—his last name was everywhere in Mission Viejo, California—but up until that day I’d never seen or heard of him. One day Stephanie dropped me off and he was just moved in, my mom already married to him.

That night was the first time I’d ever been hit, and it was by my own mother. My sweet, gentle mother who couldn’t kill a spider, let alone spank her own daughter when she misbehaved, hit me. I asked who Jeff was and why he was telling me to call him Dad, and my mom hit me across the back with the new scotch bottle she’d been attempting to open. It didn’t break, but it left one nasty-looking bruise. From that point on, I never went a day without some kind of injury inflicted by one of them. Usually it was fists or palms, and I began welcoming those, because when they started throwing coffee mugs, drinking glasses, or lamps, or when my mom took off her heels and repeatedly hit me in the head with the tip of her stiletto . . . I didn’t know if I would still be alive the next day. About a week after the first hit was when I first got beat with Jeff’s socket wrench, and that was the first night I opened my window, popped off the screen, and made my way to Tyler’s window. At seven years old, he helped me into his room, gave me some of his pajamas since my nightshirt was covered in blood, and held my hand as we fell asleep in his bed.

Over the last eleven years, Tyler has begged me to let him tell his parents what was going on, but I couldn’t let that happen. If Tyler told them, they would call someone and I knew they would take me away from Tyler. My hero had died, and the mom I loved had disappeared down a bottle; no way was I letting someone take me from Ty too. The only way I had gotten him to agree was agreeing myself that if he ever found me unconscious, all promises were off and he could tell whomever he wanted. But that was just keeping Tyler quiet; we never had factored in the neighbors . . .

After the first three years of the abuse, I stopped sneaking out to Ty’s house every night, only doing so on the nights when it was something other than body parts hitting me, but Tyler was always waiting, no matter what. He kept a first aid kit in his room, and would clean up and bandage anything he was able to. We butterfly-bandaged almost all the cuts, but three times he forced me to get stitches. We told his dad I tripped over something while going for a run outside each time. I’m not naïve, I knew his dad didn’t believe me—especially since I was not one for running, and the only time I was involved with sports was watching it on Ty’s TV—but we were always careful to hide my bruises around him and he never tried to figure out where I actually got the cuts from. I’d sit at their kitchen table and let him sew me up, they’d let me out the front door when they were sure I was okay, and Tyler would be waiting by his open window as soon as I rounded the house. Every night he had something ready for me to sleep in, and every night he would hold my hand and curl his body around mine until we fell asleep.

So when Tyler kissed my forehead, cheek, or hand, it never meant anything romantic. He was just comforting me in the same way he had since we were kids.

“Cassi? Did I lose you?” Tyler waved his hand in front of my face.

“Sorry. Life, starting over. Friends, yeah, this, uh—will be—I need to . . . friends.” I’m pretty sure there was English somewhere in that sentence.

Ty barked out a laugh and squeezed my knee, and after a few silent minutes he thankfully changed the subject. “So what do you think about the apartment?”

“It’s great. Are you sure you want me to stay with you? I can get my own place, or even sleep on the couch . . .” My own place? That was such a far-fetched idea it was almost funny; I didn’t even have a hundred dollars to my name.

“No way, I’ve shared my bed with you for eleven years, I’m not about to change that now.”

“Ty, but what about when you get a girlfriend? Are you really going to want to explain why I live with you? Why we share a dresser, closet, and bed?”

Tyler looked at me for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. His brown eyes had darkened, and his lips were mashed in a tight line. “You’re staying with me, Cassi.”

I sighed but didn’t say anything else. We’d had a version of this argument plenty of times. Every relationship he’d ever had ultimately ended because of me and the fact that we were always together. I hated that I ruined his relationships, and whenever he was dating someone I would even stop coming to his room and answering his calls so he could focus on his girlfriend instead. That never lasted long though; he’d climb through my window, pick me up out of bed, and take me back to his house. We never had to worry about my boyfriends, since I’d never had one. What with Tyler’s possessiveness and all, no one even attempted to get close enough to me. Not that it bothered me; the only guy I’d ever had feelings for was too old for me and had only been in my life for a few short minutes. The moment I’d answered the door to see him standing there, my stomach had started fluttering and I felt this weird connection with him I’d never felt with anyone, and even after he was gone I’d dreamed about his cool intensity and mesmerizing blue eyes. Ty didn’t know about him though, because what was the point? I’d just barely turned sixteen and he was a cop; I knew I’d never see him again, and I didn’t. Besides, other than my real dad and Ty, I had a problem with letting guys get close, strange connection or not. When my already-disturbed world turned completely upside down the minute a new man came into our house . . . trust issues were bound to happen.

Tyler had decided to go to the University of Texas in Austin, where his cousin Gage, who was two years older than us, was currently studying. I’d heard a lot about Gage and his family from Ty over the years, since they were his only cousins, and I was genuinely happy he was going. Gage was like a brother to him and Tyler hadn’t seen him in a few years, so their sharing an apartment would be good for Ty. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when Tyler left; the only thing I did know was that I was getting away from the house I grew up in. I just had to make it another month until I turned eighteen and then I was gone. But Tyler, being Tyler, made my future plans for me. He crawled through my window, told me to pack my bag, and just before he could haul me off to his Jeep, he told Mom and Jeff exactly what he thought of them. I didn’t have time to worry about the consequences of his telling them off, because before I knew it we were on the freeway and headed for Texas. We made the trip in just over a day, and now, after being here long enough to unpack his Jeep and shower separately, we were headed to some lake for a party to meet up with Gage and his friends.

Gage’s family wasn’t from Austin; I didn’t know where in Texas they lived, but apparently they had a ranch. After hearing that, I’d had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from asking what Gage was like. I understood we were in Texas now, but already Austin had blown my expectations of dirt roads and tumbleweeds away with its downtown buildings and greenery everywhere. I just didn’t know how I’d handle living with a tight-Wranglered, big-belt-buckled, Stetson-wearing cowboy like I’d seen in rodeos and movies. I’d probably burst out laughing every time I saw him.

When we came up to the lake and the group of people, I sucked in a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm my nerves. I wasn’t a fan of new people.

Tyler grabbed my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “New beginning, Cassi. And I’ll be right here next to you.”

“I know. I can do this.” His Jeep stopped and I immediately took that back. Nope. No, I can’t do this. I had to think quickly of where every bruise was, making sure my clothes were covering them all, even though I’d already gone through this at the apartment. I just didn’t want anyone here to know what kind of life I’d had.

I jumped out of Tyler’s Jeep, took one more deep breath, and mentally pumped myself up. New life. I can do this. I turned and rounded the front and hadn’t even made it to Tyler’s side when I saw him. I don’t know if I made a conscious choice to stop walking or if I was still making my way to Tyler and didn’t realize it; all I could focus on or see was the guy standing about ten feet from me. He was tall, taller than Tyler’s six-foot frame, and had on loose, dark tan cargo shorts and a white button-up shirt, completely unbuttoned, revealing a tan, toned chest and abs. His arms were covered in muscles, but he didn’t look like someone who spent hours in the gym or taking steroids. The only way I can describe them is natural, and labor-made. His jet-black hair had that messy, just-got-out-of-bed look, and my hand twitched just thinking about running my fingers through it. I couldn’t see what color eyes he had from here, but they were locked on me, his mouth slightly open. He had a bottle of water in his hand, and it was raised like he had been about to take a drink out of it before he saw me. I had no idea what was happening to me, but my entire body started tingling, and my palms were sweating just looking at him.

I’d seen plenty of attractive guys—Tyler looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch model, for crying out loud. But Mr. New couldn’t even be described as something as degrading as attractive. He looked like a god. My breath was becoming rougher, and my blood started warming as I took an unconscious step toward him. Just then a tall, leggy blonde bounced over to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing his strong jaw. It felt like someone punched me in the stomach and I was instantly jealous of whoever this girl was. Shaking my head, I forced my eyes to look away. What the hell, Cassidy? Calm down.

“Cassi, you coming?”

I blinked and looked over at Tyler, who had his hand outstretched to me. “Uh, yeah.” I glanced back at Mr. New and saw he still hadn’t moved. The perky blonde was chatting his ear off, and he didn’t even seem to be hearing her. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks from the way he was looking at me, like he’d just seen the sun for the first time, and continued over to Tyler.

Tyler pulled me to his side and whispered in my ear, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reassured him, trying to slow my heart down for a completely different reason now.

He kissed my cheek and pulled away. “Okay, well let me introduce you to Gage.”

Right. Gage. Tyler dropped my hand, only to put his on the small of my back as he led me over to Mr. New and the leggy blonde. Oh no. No no no no no.

“ ’Sup, man?” Tyler slapped him on the back and Mr. New slowly dragged his eyes from me to the guy who’d just hit him.

Gage’s eyes went wide when he saw Ty. “Tyler, hey! I didn’t realize y’all were here yet.”

Oh. Good. God. That voice. Even with that small sentence I could hear the drawl in it. It was deep and gravelly, and easily the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.

“Yeah, we just got here. Cassi, this is my cousin Gage. Gage, this is Cassi.”

Gage brought his hand out. “It’s a pleasure, Cassi. I’m glad y’all are finally here.”

My knees went weak and a jolt of electricity went through me when I shook his hand. From how he glanced down at our hands quickly, he’d felt it too. “It’s nice to meet you too.” Now that I was up close, I could see his bright green eyes, hidden behind thick black lashes and eyebrows. He was the definition of masculine. From his strong jaw and brow, high cheekbones, defined nose, and perfectly kissable lips, his looks screamed man. The only thing offsetting the masculinity were his boyish deep dimples, which had me hooked. Yep, god was the only word out there that fit him.

Our hands didn’t separate fast enough for the tall blonde, so she thrust her hand forward. “I’m Brynn, Gage’s girlfriend.” Her eyes narrowed on the last word.

I shouldn’t have, but I glanced at Gage again. His brows were pulled down in either confusion or annoyance when he looked at Brynn. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. I didn’t care if it had been only two seconds since I first saw him, this couldn’t be a normal reaction for two people just meeting to have with each other, and he had a freaking girlfriend. It hadn’t even felt like this with the cop who came to my door that night, and I’d thought about him for almost two years!

I squared my shoulders and dropped Gage’s hand, focusing on Brynn. “It’s great to meet you, Brynn!” I hoped my smile looked genuine. I didn’t need an enemy yet, especially if she was dating the guy I was going to be living with. But hell, I’m not gonna lie—I was already thinking of ways to get her out of the picture.

Tyler and Brynn shook hands, and she looked back at me, noticing that I was doing everything to keep from looking at her boyfriend. Tyler and Gage were catching up, and every time Gage would speak I had to force myself not to shut my eyes and lose myself in the way his voice caused chills to go through my whole body.