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But he could think of one thing that would make it even better.
It’s a good thing you’re getting out of town. You aren’t thinking straight anymore.
The fact was what had happened was haunting him, the memories of fucking her more powerful than he ever believed. He wanted her. He already felt a sense of being entitled to her, somehow. Just the thought of some college fucks pawing at her, plying her with drinks, then trying to stick their little dicks in her made him want to break something. Though he’d sent her away, he increasingly thought of Kelsey as his.
It made no sense, of course. But when it came to matters of the heart, how much really did?
The worst part of it though was the nagging feeling, a sense that there wasn’t a way for him to be his true self, to live the way he really believed was best… and not extinguish her in the process.
He wanted a fuck toy, a possession, an owned plaything to do with as he wished… and Kelsey wasn’t prepared to handle that. Not at all.
Of course, that was setting aside the fact that she was, well, Mitchell’s fucking daughter.
He sat down on the couch staring out at the freshly mowed front yard, the sun beating down strongly now. It wouldn’t be long before the grass turned an even deeper green, fully awakened from its dormant winter brown. While he’d miss the beauty of Tennessee, Foster Canyon Ranches was where he belonged—at least for the summer. And considering what had happened, perhaps the solitude and the unique community there was the best thing for him. With any luck, by the time he got back in the fall, the silly girl would have already moved on. Even if that prospect, as right as it was, hurt just the tiniest bit.
Protecting Kelsey sometimes meant protecting her from herself.
Or from men like you.
The flight was supposed to leave tomorrow afternoon, so he needed to be in Nashville by late morning. His sister Candace would come get his truck and drive it back to the house.
His cell phone buzzed on the couch next to him, startling him enough to make beer splash out onto his thigh. He cursed under his breath, wiping it off with the back of his hand, then picking up the phone.
“Well, shit.” It was Mitchell. He clicked answer. “How many notches in the count for you now, asshole? Still running through British trim as fast as you possibly can?”
Mitchell laughed, but it was strangely muted. He wondered if something was wrong. “Here and there,” Mitchell said. “But I thought I’d take a break from showing these Brit hotties how Americans do it to call my old friend.”
“Should I feel honored?”
“Shit, considering what I’ve been up to, I’m not sure honor and my name belong in the same sentence.”
“Or the same zip code,” Max muttered. It was Max’s turn to laugh, and he realized just how good it was to hear from his friend.
“But look, seriously, there is a reason for my call.” Mitchell’s voice dropped an octave, and while not solemn, he knew the man well enough to know there was indeed something bothering him. “I pulled Kelsey from the sorority.”
“You did? What happened? She fucking loves that place.”
And it was true. She seemed totally at home at the sorority house, and nowhere had he seen it more than that night he’d auctioned himself off like a piece of meat.
“Yeah, fuck, looks like she loves it a little bit more than she should. Her grades have been slipping significantly, and I think she’s been partying too much. I need to do something about that, too.”
“So, yanking her away from her friends does what?”
A tiny note of mirth could just be detected in Mitchell’s voice. “Not all of her friends. All of them but one of them, to be precise.”
“I don’t think I’m following you, Mitch.”
“I’ve got a… favor to ask. Of you.”
Max chuckled, rolling his eyes. “If it’s bail money you need, I think you’re shit outta luck, pal.”
“Oh, if only it was that simple…”
“Alright, I’ll bite. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
He doubted it was anything serious. Mitchell was loaded, and had plenty of connections even over in Jolly Old England. But with Mitchell, one could never be too sure.
That said, he was his best friend, and this was far from the first time Mitchell had leaned on him when he needed Max’s help. It was reciprocated, of course, the way the best friendships were, but in many ways, they were like brothers even though both of them never had an actual brother.
