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I shrug because I did.

Oz scans the yard and it’s surprisingly empty. No Chevy. No Stone. To my shock, he defies unspoken personal space barriers and crouches in front of me. He’s so freaking massive that even with me on the swing, he’s only an inch or so below my eye level.

He grabs the swing by the seat and it grinds to a halt. Oz’s fingers brush along the skin of my thigh. My heart stutters. Stupid heart. Stupid short skirt. Stupid deep blue eyes and wild charcoal hair. Stupid, stupid, stupid me for licking my suddenly dry lips.

Oz follows the action. The way my tongue snuck out and because he’s staring so intently, I nervously suck in my bottom lip. He watches that too and those eyes grow dark. Breathing would be good and would possibly ease the burning in my lungs.

Oz drags his gaze to mine. “Our club doesn’t kill people.”

I blink. Kill people? “What?”

“You asked about the illegal club and I saw the look on your face in the truck and then when you were talking to Violet. We aren’t what you think.”

“Okay.”

“Not okay. I need you to know that what Violet said in the truck was a lie. We’re legit. What you see around you, what you will see once Eli returns and allows this place to go back to normal...it’s a family. We take care of each other. Depend on each other. There isn’t a situation we face alone, a need that isn’t met.”

His words sink past my skin, past my muscles and settles into a hollow area in my soul and I shift. I love my parents. More than most people would admit. And Dad’s parents are amazing, but there’s a part of me that wonders what it would be like to belong to something...more.

My lips twitch up, but the attempted grin feels empty. “Next you’ll tell me you gather around a piano and sing Christmas carols.”

Oz chuckles. “Won’t lie, after a few shots, I’ve heard some of the guys sing a few tunes.”

“Not lyrics to an old Guns N’ Roses song. Christmas songs. ‘Rudolph.’ ‘White Christmas.’ ‘We Three Kings.’”

“Hey, you haven’t heard ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ until you’ve heard us, sweetheart.”

“Liar.”

“Cross my heart.” And he does the accompanying motion.

“Tell me what Honeysuckle Ridge is.”

Oz’s entire face brightens with his smile. It’s a gorgeous one. Dazzling even. “Good try, but not good enough. Already told you, I have no idea.”

“Now you’re a liar.”

One slow, sexy-as-hell shoulder shrug. “What are you going to do about it?”

Is he flirting with me?

The screen door screeches open and Oz casually stands as if it’s normal to be crouched in front of someone he barely knows. Violet and Oz eyeball each other as she walks out and he walks in.

When the door shuts again she clicks her tongue at me. “You are destined to be the type that learns the hard way, aren’t you?”

My body rolls forward and I lower my head into my hands. Evidently I am.

Oz

IT’S CHAOS.

Yelling.

Screaming.

And it’s only the second quarter of the game.

I’m blowing my damn ears off with the whistle, but the little punk kid from the home team is still chasing the skinny kid with the ball. “You’re not on the field anymore!”

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