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“And information about Pete is theonlyreason you’re gonna hound him while he’s here?”
I can hear the smirk in her voice and it pisses me off. Julia and I have been friends since we were in kindergarten, and she knows all about my teen crush on Jake.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The hell you don’t! When Ms. Brannerman came to pick up her doberman she told me that Jake has turned into ‘one hot piece of man meat’ and those were her exact words!”
Julia and I both giggle at the brilliant inappropriateness of Ms. Brannerman, the local librarian who loves pearls, tweed jackets, and tattooed men on motorcycles.
“He’s always been cute, but yes, Ms. Brannerman is correct. He’s fully hot now. But …” My voice trails off as I remember the cold look in his eyes when he had me pinned against that wall. Hot, yes. Passionate. But also distant. Like he was working hard to hold himself apart.
“What?” Julia asks.
“He’s changed somehow. He seems so… lost.” The sadness I feel makes my voice thick with emotion, and I feel tears sting my eyes.
“Liv, he kills people for a living,” Julia whispers. “That must’ve changed him.”
I realize she’s right. Jake isn’t the boy I loved all those years ago—he’s a trained killer. But how much of that boy is left? I guess I’ll find out.
Chapter 5
Jake
I’ve been restlessly pacing around my house since I got back from Main Street. My encounter with Livi has me all kinds of twisted up inside. I can’t believe she just blurted those questions at me in the middle of a fucking bakery. I didn’t mean to get so physical with her, but she hit a nerve and asked me the one question I just can’t give her the answer to. I can’t tell her what she wants to hear because it’ll mean she finds out the truth about me—the fact that my actions led to the death of her brother.
And when she knows that, she’ll never look at me the same way again.
Of course I knew she had a crush on me when she was a little kid; she didn’t do anything to try to hide it, and it was cute. She loved Pete so much, I just figured it was an extension of her feelings for her brother. But the way she looked at me today when I had her pressed against the wall, that look was filled with heat and longing. The press of her breasts against my chest and her sweet floral smell made my dick harder than it’s been in years. I had to get out of there before I devoured her whole.
As the sun begins to set, I decide I need a distraction from my thoughts, so I change into athletic shorts and tape up my hands and feet so I can take my frustrations out on the punch bag that hangs in my garage. Once I set up my bluetooth speaker and choose my loudest playlist, I bounce around on the balls of my feet, sizing up the bag. My first punch hits hard and the bag swings away from me, swinging back so I can hit it with a high roundhouse kick. I continue to beat the shit out of the punch bag until my muscles are screaming, and I’m drenched in sweat.
I’m just about to start another set when the music stops abruptly, and I spin around to check if my phone has died. But instead of a dead iPhone, I see Livi standing in the open doorway. Her alabaster cheeks are bright red, and she’s fiddling with my phone, trying to avoid looking at me. It’s only then that I realize I’m probably quite a mess—my shorts are hanging off my hips, my torso is covered in a sheen of sweat and my short hair is plastered to my head.
As Livi continues to stand there staring like the cat’s got her tongue, I break the silence. “Can I help you with something?” I growl, holding the punch bag to stop it swinging.
“Mom asked me to ask you to come to dinner tomorrow,” she blurts, throwing my phone down on the workbench like it’s a hot potato. “She says you know what time, so just make sure to dress nice and bring flowers or something.”
I can’t help smirking at how awkward she’s being. I don’t know if it's because of what happened earlier or because I’m standing in front of her half-naked and sweaty.
“So I shouldn’t come over dressed like this?” I ask, gesturing to myself. But instead of laughing, Livi's eyes drag hungrily over my body, blatantly checking out my hard-earned chest and abs. I watch as she slowly sweeps her tongue across her pouty bottom lip, making me want to bite it. My dick twitches to life again.
“Well no, obviously not! You’re all gross and sweaty!” she splutters, turning away from me as I move to grab my dog tags from the workbench, hanging them back around my neck where they belong.
I move toward Livi, her back still facing me. It’s like some kind of tractor beam is drawing me in, and before I know it I’m standing so close to her I can smell the sunshine in her hair and the orange blossom on her skin. “I’m gross and sweaty, huh?” I whisper in her ear, pressing my body against her back.
I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest over her shoulder, and I get a thrill from the fact that she seems to be as affected by our close proximity as I am. I just hope she can’t feel the steel rod I’m now sporting because of the way wisps of her jet black hair trail down her smooth creamy neck.
“Just make sure you arrive on time and do us all a favor and take a shower,” Livi whispers in a husky voice that makes the hair on my neck stand on end. Before I can reach out and sweep my fingers down her neck, she stomps out of the garage and slams the door, leaving me breathless and achingly hard.
God damn it, why is she affecting me like this? She’s always just been the kid sister, the little bug that followed me and Pete around. Now she’s a sexy Amazonian temptress who’s sending me out of my head. As if I wasn’t fucked up enough trying to keep the real story about Pete to myself, I’m now going to have to deal with the fact I want to claim Olivia Masters in every way a man can claim a woman.
∞∞∞
The next afternoon I navigate my bike down streets I haven’t been on since I was a teenager. Turning onto Ocean Street, I see the Masters’ house at the very end, in its prime spot overlooking the Pacific. Pete and I spent most of our spare time down at the beach, surfing, swimming, and having epic bonfire parties. I’ve had some really good times in that house, which only makes it more painful.
Once I park my bike up next to Dave’s truck, I pull off my helmet and just sit there, deciding whether to go inside or keep riding until I reach Canada. However, the sound of a car pulling up makes that decision for me. I turn around and see Livi exiting her VW Bug with a box from Dreams Bakery in her hand. She looks beautiful and feminine in a floral halter top and jean cutoffs that show off her endless toned legs—legs I want to feel wrapped around my waist as I plunge into her over and over again…
“You made it on time and dressed appropriately. I’m shocked,” Livi sasses as she locks her car and walks toward me, her long black hair swinging in a high ponytail.
