“Sweetheart, every girl here is mine. And every girl in this town knows it.”
Lucas touches his lower lip with his thumb. It comes away red.
I made him bleed.
Serves you right, dick. I cross my arms.
His amusement grows. He looks at me like I’m a dog performing a cute trick.
“They all throw themselves at me eventually.” Lucas gives a carefree shrug. “You’d better fall in line, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
This self-important asshole!
I grit my teeth. I can still taste him.
“Not happening.” To drive the point home, I return the once over he gave me with one of my own and curl my lip. “Ever.”
Lucas snorts and drapes an arm around my shoulders. I wriggle to get away from him, but he’s strong. He contains me without exerting himself.
When I jab his side with my elbow, I come against hard muscles and the trim physique of an athlete. The hot puffs of his raspy laughter ghost across my skin.
He plucks at my hair and gestures at the giant blow up balloon decorations. “It’s my birthday, you know.”
I blink. “And?”
“Let’s call that my birthday present.” Lucas pinches my cheek and leers down at me. “Although, I won’t say no if you want to give me something else. Eighteen’s a milestone birthday, so you can give me something…” Lucas drags his fingertips down my cheek and traces the neckline of my t-shirt, “bigger and flashier than a kiss.”
As I squirm, he holds me tighter. A frustrated breath hisses out of me. Lucas’ nose presses into my temple and the entertained tilt of his mouth grazes my cheek.
“The way I see it, you owed me that kiss for coming to the party,” he mutters.
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
Lucas releases me and digs his fingers in my hair to keep me close. I could run, but I’d end up with my hair yanked for my trouble. His gaze trails over my body and he smirks. Lucas’ entire aura is smug and cocky.
“We can do that, too, sweetheart.”
The disbelief that crashes over me is so profound, it takes a moment to process the sheer audacity this guy has. A hazy red anger bleeds into my vision. I want to wipe that fucking smirk off his face.
How dare Lucas think I’m something he can have. He must be used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants it.
Well, tough shit, buddy.
I’m not the kind of girl who will jump at the snap of his fingers.
I grant him a sharp smirk of my own and relish the way he tracks my lips. I stomp on his foot with all my might, driving my heel down on his toes. Satisfaction blooms in my chest when Lucas bites out a surprised curse and lets me go.
“What the f—”
Before he can retaliate and use his strength to incapacitate me again, I dash out of reach.
Alec stands off to the side with an unreadable expression. I grab a fistful of his shirt and drag him behind me as I navigate through the drama vultures.
I shoulder past people that don’t jump out of my way. Curses about spilled drinks follow me.
See if I care. I’m a girl on a mission to get the hell out of this party.
As we reach the big glass door, I glance over my shoulder. Lucas’ gaze is pinned on me with a hunter’s precision. There’s something in his eyes that stirs an uneasiness in me.
My lips contort in acidic disdain. “Come on, Alec.”
My brother trails behind me without a word as we leave the party behind us.
Four
Lucas
It’s not Heather.
That’s the first thought that crossed my mind after she bit my lip.
The second thought persistently blaring in my mind is simple: want.
After the unfamiliar beauty breaks eye contact and disappears into the night, I rub my lip and stare after her. It’s sore where she bit me.
A fire stirs in my belly and drives away the noise of the party.
Jealousy flares through me over her leaving with the new guy on the team. What does he have that I don’t?
My interest sparks to attention as I suck on my split lip. A fog held me prisoner all night—one that crept in bit by bit over the summer—but now I’m alive again. The world realigns in crystal clear focus.
I’m driven by an incarnate instinct to go after that girl for another kiss until she changes her tune and screams yes for me.
Bishop stands closest, his sharp attention flicking between me and the open glass panel.
“Who was that?”
“New girl,” Bishop supplies with a shrug. “She’s Turner’s sister, according to the file I swiped for you when he tried out.”
My eyebrow lifts and I consider her beauty against Turner’s features. “Twins?”
That makes me feel better, the jealousy ebbing away to a dull background noise. I want to make her mine.
“They’re both seniors, so yeah.”
I nod slowly and run my fingers over my chin as my thoughts mill in my head. The fiery kiss replays and my pants feel tighter. My stance shifts as I try to calm down.
“Anything else you know about her?”
“I don’t know, she’s kinda weird. I saw her in the office on the first day with her brother. She seemed like one of those angry girl types. You know, combat boots and a leather jacket paired with the school uniform.” Bishop shrugs. “Want me to snag her file, too?”
Before I’ve even decided, I’m nodding. I clear my throat and run my fingers through my hair.
“Yeah.” My voice is gruff. A horny, restless energy floods my veins and I want to slip away from the party to jack off with a head full of her perfect ass and sweet tongue. “Do you have a name? I can’t go around calling her Girl Turner.”
Bishop chuckles. “No, but I’ll find out.”
“Good.”
I need to learn more. I have to know everything about her so next time I can convince her not to refuse.
“Lucas!”
A hand wraps around my forearm and I allow myself to get dragged back into the party. It’s easier to let go and enjoy it when the cheer squad brings out a cake with sparkler candles. I don’t even grimace at Marissa’s Marilyn Monroe impression when she leads her crew singing happy birthday.
The whole time my mind is wrapped around a hot firecracker with honey-blonde hair and a sexy bite.
Five
Gemma
Saturday morning starts with me tripping over the miscellaneous moving boxes yet to be unpacked lining the hallway. I groan, rubbing my stubbed toe as I hobble down the hall.
Most of our house is assembled, but anytime we move we get complacent about what’s not urgent. Since Alec and I were born, we moved three times around Colorado Springs.
Two months in Ridgeview and there are still random boxes in every area, some acting as makeshift tables while others are relegated to the corner of no return.
“Morning hun,” Mom greets as she enters the hall. She turns her attention to the boxes with a determined air. “This weekend! Family goal: finish these boxes.”
“Didn’t you say to Dad there were some you never unpacked from your first house when we were loading the moving truck?”