I stilled.

What the hell?

Was he…?

Yeah. He was.

I winked at him, knowing it’d piss him off. “So that’s what you fuckers are nervous about? That my best friend might give me a beatdown and what? You’ll have to rally for me? ’Cause we’re brothers?”

Cross clenched his jaw. “’Cause Tasmin would never forgive me if I let that go, and yeah, I’ve been to war with your school already. I want an easy summer with my guys and Bren. That’s it. You getting your ass beat by your crowd won’t bode well for us.”

I rolled my eyes and patted his shoulder. “Then you’re off the hook. I get my ass beat, don’t worry. I won’t be calling you for vengeance. I’ve got a whole group of boys in New York who will gladly hop a flight out here to have my back. Unlike you, I don’t have just three people to back me up.” My tone turned mocking. “I have ten times that amount.”

With that, I got in my Wagon and pulled out.

My words echoed in my ears, and I tightened my hold on the steering wheel.

My words had sounded good. They’d sounded confident, but they were empty. I might be able to wrangle up a group to have my back, but that wasn’t the point. Zeke wasn’t the bad guy Cross thought he was, but he wasn’t a great guy either. That’s where I understood him when no one else did, because he and I were the same.

We weren’t all bad.

There were pockets of good in us.

Or maybe that’s just what I told myself as I turned my car toward Aspen’s house.

20

Aspen

Knock, knock!

Keys and phone in hand, backpack on, I paused in my room. I’d been about to head to the store. There was a new camping security system I wanted to check out before buying.

“Yes?”

Miss Sandy opened the door, a frown on her face.

She’d been frowning most the week. I was sure she was on to me and my whole “sickness,” but she’d never said a word. She kept doting on me. I got hot packs, warm washcloths, and tea. I got bowls of chicken noodle soup, boxes of Kleenex, cough drops, medicine for nighttime, and medicine for daytime. You name it, I got it, so I was feeling all sorts of guilt. But my parents were still in LA, so I only had a few more days until I was in the clear.

“Miss Sandy! Hi.”

Her eyes traveled over my jeans, sandals, and tank top.

I was busted.

But after a small sigh, all she said was, “There’s a young man at the gate asking to come see you.”

I frowned. A young man? Blaise? “Oh.”

It was daytime, so he would’ve gotten Mr. Carl at the gate. That meant Tucker truly hadn’t put Blaise’s name on the list, which was cool of Tucker, but not so cool now.

I bit my lip, tugging at one of my backpack straps. “I’m feeling better, so I was going to go to the store. I’ll just talk to him out there.”

“We should tell him to wait?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I slipped past her and hurried down the hallway. “See you tomorrow, Miss Sandy. I’ll be back later, and I might be worn out, ’cause I’m probably not back to a hundred percent.” Cough, cough.

I was such a shitty actress, which was ironic, considering my parents.

Then I was down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out to the garage. My parents had taken my dad’s vehicle, so my mom’s was still in the first stall. She always got the first stall because she said if she brought groceries home, she needed close access to the kitchen.

I couldn’t remember the last time she went grocery shopping, but it was what it was. She got the first stall.

I headed past the next three empty stalls to Maisie.

When I got to the front gate, Carl pointed me over to the side.

Blaise’s G Wagon was parked and Blaise was waiting beside the road.

He jogged over, and I tried not to ogle, but damn, he looked good.

He tapped on my window.

I rolled the window down. “Hey. I was headed out anyway and figured it’d be easier this way. Miss Sandy didn’t seem too approving.”

He nodded, his hands going into his pockets. “Where are you going?”

I hesitated, but this was me. I had to be me. “There’s some new camping gear at Holliston. I wanted to check it out, see if they had the new security system.”

He frowned, his head tilted to the side, and I sighed on the inside because even that looked good on him.

“Let’s take Maisie back, and I’ll drive,” he said.

“What?”

“Come on.” He tapped my window again, grinning—and my word, there was a dimple there. A dimple, folks. A dimple!

“I’ll follow you through, and then we can hang out.” His eyes darkened. His grin turned wolfish. “I need some Aspen time. Badly.”

I frowned, a little kick of concern tightening my throat, but I nodded.

He jogged back to his car, and I pulled around to explain the plan to Mr. Carl. He gave me a tight nod as his gaze looked back at Blaise. When we got to the house, I pulled Maisie into the driveway and hurried down to the road.

Blaise had brought his Wagon around, so I slipped in on the passenger side.

That’s when the nerves hit me.

I liked riding in Maisie, and getting in Blaise’s Wagon, I got all tongue-tied. This was a boy that had kissed me, made me explode, and I was in his vehicle. He was driving, and we were going to hang out. Was this an appropriate time to confess that I’d never been on a date?

Would he look at me weird?

Because I felt weird. I felt all sorts of what the hell am I doing? Blaise was so out of my league.

“Did you come from a party?” I asked.

He turned toward the gate, easing slowly so Carl could open it for us. “Huh?”

“What’d you do today?”

He glanced at me, then did a double take, his eyes narrowing. “What’s up with you?”

My stomach tanked. “What?”

“What do you mean what? Something’s up with you. You’re looking at me like my fingers have not been inside of you and I’m not sitting here hoping my dick will follow one of these days. Just spell it out.”

Jesus Christ. Forget my stomach tanking. He just brought his foot down hard on my stomach. I felt squashed, then the anger started in.

“You’re such a prick! You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Like what?” Both his eyebrows were up, but so were the corners of his mouth. He tried to hide his smile with his hand. “I’m being honest. I want to bang you. Badly. Most girls would love hearing that from me.”

“Well—” I jerked forward, but then I stopped.

I did like hearing that.

I leaned back in my seat, grumbling, “You made me feel squashed, and now I’m, like, loving what you’re saying? How messed up am I?”

“Huh.” That was all he said as he moved his car to the side of road. We’d just cleared the gate and turned the corner. As soon as the Wagon was in park, he grabbed the keys, tossed them to the dashboard and he was on my side. He buried his head in my neck. His hand pushed behind me, smoothing down my back, nestling between me and the seat until he could cup my ass. “Jesus,” he groaned. “Do you not get how much I want you?”

I was starting to get it, and I was shocked at the suddenness of it, but this hug felt nice.

It felt really nice.

I melted into my seat as he murmured into my neck, “You have these long legs that I daydream about winding around my waist. Your rack is honestly perfect for me, and not to mention just you.” He wasn’t doing anything except rubbing my ass, but my body was burning up. An inferno built between my legs, and he just kept talking, stoking that fire. “You’re unbelievably sweet. And pure. And chaste. And you’re smart. And you’re kickass because you do your own thing. You’re funny in a cute way, and I love how you’ll be biting your lip, and then I’ll say some smartass comment, and you burst alive—like a bomb or something—and then you’re all about putting me in my place and trying to make me a better person.”

He eased his head back, his eyes finding mine, and the seriousness in them took my breath. “Whatever the fuck this is between us, it’s not just taking you by storm.” His eyes fell to my mouth. “I called you my woman today.”

My heart pounded. “You did?” I felt the drumming in my sternum.

He nodded, his voice hoarse. “Yeah, and I never took it back. I didn’t even want to, because fuck—I want you to be my woman. Will you be my woman?”

My mouth opened and hung there. Not even a full week ago, he’d been saying he couldn’t do a relationship. I didn’t have time to voice my thoughts before he groaned and pulled away.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m all over the place. A week ago, I didn’t want to date anyone. Five days ago, I promised you I wouldn’t touch anyone—but nothing else—and I’ve spent the night with you twice, plus most of Sunday. Today, I had to force myself to stay away from you because I know once I’m in your presence, I won’t want to leave, like, ever. School is going to suck tomorrow, and now I’ve sprung this on you? I’m sorry. I really am.”

Oh.

My.

God.

I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t think. I could only feel, and my heart and vagina were throbbing in unison. I was one giant, aching organ, needing to be touched.