Stolen Kisses

by Addison Moore

  I give a nervous laugh. I’ve been known to blow off more than one of my brother’s texts. And eerily, Piper really did come close to the truth about the whole partying with drunken frat boys thing. My face fills with heat, turning bright as an alarm as if assuring them of this very thing.

  “So, you guys heading up tonight?” I know that’s the plan. Owen mentioned last week that they’ll be taking off in her family’s private jet. Piper’s family is loaded. And as much as I would have loved to have seen the inside of that private jet, seen Manhattan for a long weekend, I would easily trade all of the luxury in the world just to spend my days with Grant. And I have.

  Owen checks his phone. “We leave in an hour. We’d better head out to the airport. What are you up to tonight?” He’s back to scowling at my hemline.

  “Dinner with friends at the Black Bear.” I shrug it off as if it were the ultimate disappointment. “Then I’ll probably head to The Row.” My eyes widen fast, and I nearly slap my hand over my mouth. “Ro-romance department of the bookstore.” Dear God, did I just fake the stutter? I guess a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. “You know, pick up a few paperbacks to keep me company tonight when I get back.”

  Crap. And to think that last week I successfully managed to stave off Owen’s inquisition regarding whether or not I have a man in my life. Like it’s any of his business.

  Owen chokes and sputters as if he has a chicken bone stuck in his throat, and Piper shakes her head at me as if not to fuel the fire.

  “Well, we’d better get going.” She lunges in and hugs me tight. “Close call,” she whispers into my ear, and I give the tiniest hint of a smile as she pulls away. Something about her solidarity softens me to her. I did like Piper in the beginning. I’m not sure where it all went wrong. Sadly, most likely our relationship soured once I realized how much Owen loved her. There’s a part of me that wants the spotlight in my brother’s life, or at least wanted to try to hold on to it for a little while longer—say, my entire stay at Whitney Briggs. But now that I have Grant, I can see how selfish I was. I truly would love for Owen to accept Grant one day.

  “Romance books, huh?” Owen scoffs as he hugs me goodbye. “Whatever happened to picture books?”

  I belt out a laugh. “If they ever sold pictorials of the stuff I read, I’m pretty sure it’d have a brown wrapper over the cover at the newsstand.”

  The three of us take off together, and as soon as we head out into the frigid night air, we offer up another round of spontaneous hugs.

  “Be safe.” Owen pecks a light kiss to my cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” He offers a jovial Santa-like wink, and it warms me to my toes. Owen has always held a magical quality to me that makes him much larger than life. I know for a fact Grant will love him.

  Piper leans in and hugs me again. “Go slow, girl.” She pulls back with a wistful smile on her face. “We’ll talk about all the important stuff when I get back.”

  Go slow? Either Daisy spilled or Piper put the short-skirted pieces together. My money is on Pembrooke.

  The two of them wave like crazy as they shout their goodbyes on their way to the car.

  Piper blows me a few kisses, and I actually pretend to catch them. Normally, I’d be this close to flipping her off, but now that I have Grant in my world I can handle just about anyone, just about anything. In fact, with Grant in my life, the air is sweeter, and my step feels light. My entire life has turned into a Valentine-shaped cliché, and I’m loving every doily heart minute of it.

  Piper’s final words penetrate as I head to the Black Bear. It’s as if Piper herself is volunteering to fill those big sister shoes right along with Daisy. I guess that would be pretty cool. It’s obvious Piper and Owen are a forever kind of deal. If all goes well, she’ll be my sister-in-law one day. And just like that, I envision a floral archway, a minister with a Bible split open in the middle—but the bride and groom, it’s not Owen and Piper. I see a full white dress cresting at my waist. I see Grant and his mile-wide grin waiting for me at the end of the altar.

  Grant and I sort of feel like a forever kind of deal, too.

  The Black Bear is deficient of about eighty percent of its normal customer base. The smell of garlic fries lights up my senses, and normally, I’d be offended by the odor, but on this half-starved night it smells like heaven.

  I spot Jet and his buddies headed toward the poolroom in the back, and a few Kappa G girls scattered about, but no sign of my man, so I take a seat at a table near the stage. Grant has mentioned a few times that he’s not crazy about some of the people here, which is weird because outside of the Black Bear he’s never mentioned anyone even remotely getting on his nerves, and then it hits me. He lost his sister. I bet her death was somehow alcohol related. Of course. That makes total sense. And I bet his appetite for steak is overriding the fact this place is actually a bar. In fact, the more time Grant spends at the Black Bear, I’m sure the less it’ll trigger his defenses.

  A tall, gorgeous boy struts in with those dark cider eyes, those full lips I love to press against my own, and I can’t help but grin. Every girl in the place turns her head once he enters the vicinity, and there’s no way I can blame them. Grant Jones is a specimen that shouldn’t be missed. Something about his name spears me again, and I can’t quite pinpoint why. It’s as if there’s a memory attached to it, but each time I reach out to grasp it, it floats further away like a feather.

  “Hey, beautiful.” He swoops in, and I stand to greet him.

  “Hey, good looking.” We lock eyes, and a live spark jumps from his gaze to mine.

  It’s textbook Romance 101, but around Grant, I never count anything that happens between us as textbook.

  “You hungry?” That lopsided grin of his does me in, and, before I know it, I plant a full kiss over his lips.

  “Hungry for you.” I give his side a tweak as we take our seats.

  “Feeling bold tonight, huh?” He glances around. “No big brother in the vicinity I take it.”

  “He’s behind you with a baseball bat,” I tease.

  “Geez.” He pretends to duck as he glances over his shoulder. “He’s that bad, huh?”

  “Worse.”

  He winces at the thought. “I don’t blame him. In fact, I’d respect him a little less if he wasn’t.” Grant reaches across the table and takes my hand up in his, interlaces our fingers right here in the Black Bear. This whole night feels like a public declaration of our feelings. “You’re worth protecting, Ava.” His eyes bear into mine as the moment grows serious between us. “I want to do that for you, too. I’m all in, Ava.” Grant doesn’t blink, doesn’t take his next breath. “I really can’t see my life without you in it.” He shakes his head as if trying to free himself from his train of thought. “I hope that wasn’t weird for you. I haven’t exactly let people in over the last few years, but for some reason, my walls crumbled when I met you—Ava PB and J.” He pumps a dull laugh. “My mom is pretty psyched to meet you.”

  “She is?” I’m dumbfounded by this. Not even my own mother has ever been that psyched about me.

  “Yes, she is.”

  Baya comes by and takes our orders, and Grant’s entire face bleaches out like he might be sick. I wait until she’s gone before saying anything.

  “You okay?” I’m half-ready to convert the menu into a barf bag.

  “I’m fine.” He shakes it off. “Just lost in my head for a minute.” He forces a smile to come and go.

  “So back to your mom. You sure she’s fine with me crashing your Thanksgiving?”

  “More than fine. It was just going to be the three of us—same two or three conversations we keep having, so we’re all pretty thrilled about having you there.” His cheek pulls up on one side, and something about that wayward grin makes him a thousand times hotter than before. “My mom asked if we were spending the night.”

  “Really?” I’d laugh, but I’m holding my breath at what he thinks of this. Just the thought of spending the
night with Grant anywhere makes my heart race and panties melt on cue.

  “Yes, really. I told her of course we were, and that I’d like our bed turned down by nine and mints on our pillows.”

  I belt out a laugh. “I bet she had a heart attack.”

  He shakes his head as that knowing laughter dissipates from his eyes. “Nope. She was fine with it. My mom just wants to see me happy, and if rocking my childhood bed with my new girlfriend does it, she seems to have somehow made peace with that.”

  My heart melts at the thought of his mother’s relentless ache for her son’s happiness. “Of course, she wants you happy.” I pull his hand over and land a kiss to his finger. “I want you happy, too, Grant.”

  “You make me happy. Mission accomplished.” We share a small laugh as if it were actually funny.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting your parents.” I give his hand a squeeze, our eyes never breaking their gaze. “But I’m sort of looking forward to spending the rest of the long weekend with you.” My throat constricts for a moment. “You know, just you and me, alone.”

  That naughty grin slowly takes over his lips. “Any ideas of how we might entertain ourselves?”

  “I don’t know, but Lucky is staying with her brother, and I’m terrified of sleeping all alone.” I had to bribe Lucky with cash and prizes, not to mention laying out a full access pass to any salacious detail my first night with Grant might entail. Since she’s just shy of doing the dirty deed herself, she’s looking forward to my raunchy rundown.

  “Are you really terrified of sleeping alone?” His brows flex, and his entire affect warms as if whatever stronghold his thoughts had on him earlier have completely evaporated. “Because it would be my honor to protect you.” He pulls my hand forward and buries a kiss over the back of it. “Your room or mine?”

  I wrinkle my nose without meaning to. “I was sort of thinking we’d be extra safe in a third location.”

  He blinks with mild surprise. “I like where this is headed. I hear it’s snowing at higher elevations, and I’m an expert at keeping a fire going all night long.”

  My thighs tremble when he says those last few words. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

  We wrap up dinner and turn down dessert in favor of heading back to Cutler Tower where Grant can begin his nightly duties as my personal secret service agent. The secret being Grant himself. The service being something my girl parts are suddenly very, very interested in.

  “I’m headed to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I lean over the table and offer a brazen lingering kiss that’s full of promise for the long night still ahead of us. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to wait until after Thanksgiving to start in on our fleshly feast. Tonight’s dessert might just be a little too hard to resist. I pull back and lose myself in those dark honeyed eyes of his. “Sometimes, I think you’re too good to be true.”

  “Just sometimes?” he teases.

  “Yup. Don’t go disappearing on me.” I mean it. When Aubree was taken away, it felt as if my parents were taken right along with her. Owen was practically kicked out of the house at that point. My biggest fear is losing everyone I care about. My heart tugs with emotion, and an entire flood of words begs to pour out. “Having you in my life—it’s funny, because you make me feel so completely like myself, as if there were no dark shadows lingering overhead.” I swallow hard at the bizarre soliloquy I just volunteered. I’d love to tell Grant about my family one day—definitely not this weekend, but sometime soon. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would judge me for the sins of my sister—or my brother if you consider his dance hall days. “Speaking of lingering—let’s get out of here as soon as I get back. I’ve got a big brother turned boyfriend to cuddle up with.”

  “He sounds like a pervert.” Grant gives my hand a squeeze, his gaze growing more serious by the moment. “Get back quick. I’m already missing you.”

  I hop out of my seat, and our fingers part slowly, inching over one another as we part painfully slow.

  I head toward the restroom and pull my phone out just as soon as I’m out of sight. I shoot a text to both Harper and Lucky.

  To hell with this weekend. I’m having this boy tonight.

  Grant

  Ava. A goofy grin settles on my face as I watch her perfect little body strut beyond my line of vision. There’s no way I’ll be able to hold off until this weekend. And as much as I can tell she might want to move up the timeline, I’m sort of thinking we should wait. I want this to be perfect for her, for us. I know for a fact Lawson’s family has a cabin up at Lake Avalanche. He offered it up to me anytime as long as it’s not occupied. I shoot off a quick text to him and ask if it’s available this weekend, and he replies back instantly letting me know that it’s mine if I want it.

  I plop down enough money to cover dinner and a tip before the bill ever arrives. I’m not usually that brazenly rude, but a part of me doesn’t want to see Baya again. Not just yet, and not tonight, not anywhere close to this weekend. The last thing I wanted to tell Ava was that Baya is Bryson’s wife, the girl that nut job who killed my sister almost offed on her way to becoming a serial killer. Every time Baya takes my order I feel sick to my stomach. I’m thrilled she survived, but she’s also the girl Bryson chose to fall in love with and marry, something Steph wanted and will never have. In the hierarchy of people that I want nothing to do with, both Baya and Bryson might be pretty high up on the list, but Owen Vincent, the killer’s brother, is still sitting squarely at the top.

  A light tap lands over my shoulder, and I turn to find Jet Madden staring back at me with a stern expression.

  “What’s up?” I laugh and slap him five. Ava has me light and on my toes. This entire long weekend is already shaping up to be the best time of my life.

  He nods toward the murky back of the establishment, and I follow him over. I can see the hall that leads to the restroom from here in the event Ava comes out and thinks I actually did ditch her. I don’t know where her fear of me leaving comes from, but I’m betting it has to do with Darcy and the fact she haunted our Halloween weekend. Other than that, I’m drawing a blank.

  “Hey, man.” Jet folds his thick arms across his chest, his features hardening as if he were about to deliver some shit news. “What’s going on with you and Ava? Is this some kind of revenge thing?”

  “What?” I inch back. “Is this about my ex?” I blink as I say it. “Wait. Do you know Darcy or something?” Shit. How the hell do I have Darcy on the brain again?

  “Nope. But I know Ava.” His eyes track to each of mine.

  “No shit? You’re not her big brother, are you?” A dark laugh strums from me, but a part of me is afraid Jet is about to rearrange my face.

  He shakes his head. “Dude.” He closes his eyes a moment. “Are you really this clueless?”

  “Clueless? Are you on something, man? Because if you are, it must be the good stuff.” I offer a light sock to his arm. “Look, I need to run.”

  Jet pulls me back by the shirt and lands me square in front of him. “I saw you with her the other night, and just now I saw the two of you kiss.”

  Anything friendly I might have felt toward Jet has just about dissipated.

  “Get your hands off me.” I give him a swift push back. Jet might be a real life version of the Hulk, but I can take him if I have to. “I think you’ve had one too many tonight. Maybe you’d better call a cab.” I try to take off again, and his arm lands in front of me.

  “She’s Owen’s sister.”

  I glance to the bar before looking over to Jet. “Who’s Owen’s sister? Baya?” My heart thumps straight into my ears at the thought. The three of them, Owen, Bryson, and Baya interweaving their nuclear bonds even tighter than before.

  Jet steps in front of me with that expression of his growing increasingly serious by the second. “No. It’s Ava. She’s Owen’s little sister.”

  The room rotates in one quick move. The ground bounces below my fe
et, and whatever the hell Jet is spewing at me next is quickly drowned out by the sound of adrenaline rushing in my ears.

  “No.” I hear myself say it plainly. “She can’t be.” Ava PB and J. Ava—what the hell is her last name? Shit. Have I really gone months completely oblivious to who Ava really is? She knows who I am, right? My mind reels right along with the bar, and I stagger for a moment.

  “Easy, man.” Jet pulls me up by the elbow, and I back out of his reach. “Look, I care about you. I care about Ava.” He cuts a quick glance toward the restrooms. “But Owen will gut you like a fish if he thinks you’re trying to take advantage of his little sister. The dude is nuts that way.”

  “Like his sister.” The words blow from my lips in puffs. “The killer.” I blink in disbelief. “Aubree Vincent. Ava Vincent.” That’s who she is. Chills break out all over my body just hearing her name come out of my mouth. A spear of anger knifes through me. “You saw me with Ava the other night,” I growl at Jet like I might attack him, and I might. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something?”

  “I thought you knew who she was. I didn’t think—I couldn’t even wrap my head around the fact she was someone you were into. It didn’t make sense. I thought you might be shitting with me.”

  My hands slap against his chest, and now it’s me pulling him in by the shirt. “Shitting with you?” I grit it through my teeth. My entire body vibrates like one red-hot nerve ending. A wild thought enters my mind. “Is she fucking with me? Is this some Vincent brand of revenge for locking that psychopath away for life?” I roar over his face, and he winces. I push Jet clear to the wall as I speed for the exit, and a body jumps in my path.

  “Whoa!” Ava pants breathy, smelling of honeyed perfume. Her lips are a deeper shade of red than they started out the night. “You weren’t leaving without me, were you?” She laughs as if she knows it were never a possibility.