“That’s messed up,” he says on a laugh. “I was pissed that you avoided me that day. You were the only one I wanted to drive around in my truck, and I couldn’t even get you in it.”
“Is that really true?” I stop at the red light and look his way. “There’s no way I was the only person you wanted in your truck. There were so many girls after you that year. I can’t even count the number of girls I would’ve gladly throat-punched for flirting with you.”
“You’re the only girl I wanted. Period. Even then when you were too young for me. I hated that I couldn’t stop wanting you. You were Roman’s baby sister and my best friend. I thought I was so fucked up for thinking about you the way I did and how often I did.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I pull up at Myers’ Speedway and park in the empty parking lot. Hearing these things from Easton—how he felt about me back then—is messing with me in the worst way possible. He could’ve been mine all along, and instead of speaking up, I kept the way I felt about him to myself.
“Kota.” Easton unbuckles his seatbelt to reach over and grab my chin. “Look at me.” I do, his eyes studying mine as he moves in close. “The past doesn’t matter. But this… here, right now, you in my truck, does. I was an idiot for not telling you how I felt back then. I was an even bigger idiot for not telling Roman the truth about which sister I wanted to be with. I can never take that back. I can never go back and not be with Quinn, which would make this easier. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Quinn, but not in the way she needed me to. Not in the way—”
“Don’t, Easton.” My chest quickly rises and falls at the mention of Quinn. I don’t want to even think about what might’ve been coming from his mouth next. Not when Quinn is in my head. “Just don’t. I can’t talk about you and Quinn. All I’ll do is hate myself if I do. I can’t.”
He leans back in his seat and grips his hair, looking up at the roof of his truck. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. I know enough about Easton to know he’s frustrated at not being able to say what’s on his mind.
We sit here for a while, neither one of us speaking, before I finally restart the truck and head back to my house.
“I’ll never regret wanting you back then, Kota,” he says, the moment I kill the engine. “And I don’t regret wanting you now either. I don’t care who knows. Even if it means Roman not speaking to me for a long fucking time. I want you. You’ve always been the most important to me.”
His touch sends chills down my spine when he unexpectedly grabs my face and crushes his lips against mine with an intensity so fierce that I forget how to breath for a moment.
All the bad thoughts and worries melt away when I give in and put everything into kissing him back as if it’s the last time I’ll feel his lips against mine. With a small growl he pushes his seat back and pulls me onto his lap, my knees spreading out on either side of his thighs.
His hands move up to grip my hair as he kisses me deep. So damn deep that I have to pull away in order to breathe. He barely gives me air before he’s pulling me back in, his mouth claiming mine in a way that has my legs trembling around his.
“Easton…” I breathe into the cab when his mouth moves along my neck, his hands reaching for my shirt. “What if Hope—”
“She won’t. She’s at the pub with your brother.” His mouth runs along my neck one more time before his hands work on removing my shirt and he tosses it aside. “Don’t think,” he whispers. “Just live in this moment with me. Just be with me, Kota.”
I comb my fingers through his hair and grip the top of the seat, placing my forehead to his, breathing heavily as I place my feet on the floorboard to stand at an angle. He grips the top of my leggings and pulls them down my body, me kicking my shoes off so he can remove them completely, and then I straddle him again.
His gaze roams over my body for a split second, before his eyes lock on mine and he reaches between us to unbuckle his jeans. My heart has never beat so fast in my life. Easton in this truck. Us in this truck.
I can hardly handle it when he lifts me up and slowly lowers me down his dick, his thickness spreading me wide.
“Fuck, Kota,” he whispers against my lips, his arms wrapping around my body both protectively and possessively at the same time. “I can’t breathe when I’m inside of you.”
Neither can I. You have no idea.
My thoughts remain unsaid, unable to speak at the moment let alone breathe. I can’t do either.
“Look at me,” he whispers, reaching up to grab the back of my head with one hand, his eyes on mine as he slowly moves me up and down on his body.
I moan into his mouth when he pulls me down to him as far as he can and stops, before his tongue darts out to taste my lips in the sexist way.
“Easton…” I grip his hair and move with his movements, my entire body lighting on fire each time he enters me. “I’m going to come…”
He grips my hair tighter, making sure I’m looking him in the eyes when he pushes me down one last time, us both coming together.
It’s hard to breathe, much less move.
I stay in his arms, my fingers brushing his lips as he looks up at me and fights to catch his breath.
“Shit…” he whispers against my fingers, grabbing my hand to kiss it.
I press my forehead to his and move my hands up to run my fingers through his messy hair. “For the record… I can’t breathe when you’re inside of me either.”
He smiles and cups my face, crushing his lips against mine, before pulling his shirt off and slipping it over my arms. “We should get you cleaned up.”
I nod in agreement and lift my body as he slowly pulls out of me. He reaches for my small tank top and cleans up his mess, before balling it up in his hand.
Opening the door, he grabs my face and kisses me one last time, before helping me out of the truck, him hopping out right behind me.
“Whoa. Please tell me I’m seeing shit.” My heart stops, my stomach sinking when my eyes land on Hope standing on my porch with something clutched in her arms. She holds up what looks like one of Quinn’s old photo albums. “I thought you’d want to look at this, but clearly, it was a bad idea. A really fucking bad idea.”
“Hope.” Her name catches in my throat and my legs feel like jelly as I attempt to take a step toward her. “We need to talk about this. This thing with me and Easton. It’s complicated.”
She shakes her head and sets the photo album down on the porch. “No. Not now, Dakota. This just doesn’t feel right.” She looks between the two of us, me dressed in Easton’s shirt and him shirtless, before she cusses under her breath and turns away. “Shit, you guys. I can’t even look at you right now.” She turns back around and points at the photo album. “Not after seeing what’s inside of this. It just… it doesn’t fucking feel right. Quinn might not be here anymore, but I can’t forget seeing her with Easton. I can’t forget how much she loved him. Do you know how weird it is seeing you with him right now? After just seeing Quinn with him in that photo album? I need some time to process this shit. You two do whatever, but I’m out of here.”
“Hope,” Easton says, attempting to stop her when she storms past us. “Let us explain.”
It does no good, because she ignores him and keeps on walking until she disappears into the dark street.
I stand frozen for a moment, my gaze stuck on the album left behind by Hope. My heart rate speeds up to an uncontrollable rate as I imagine what’s inside. I don’t even have to open it to know it’s the album from the summer she died. I recognize the hand drawn rose on it now that I can see it better.
“Kota...”
“No,” I whisper, unable to breathe. “Don’t come any closer, Easton. Stay right there.”
Despite me telling him to stay back, Easton comes up beside me and reaches out to brush my hair out of my face.
“Don’t, dammit!” I push his hand away, before walking over to the porch and grabbing the album. My trembling fingers trace the red rose, my sto
mach twisting into knots as I open the front page. A picture of me, Easton, and Quinn has tears streaming down my face, my chest burning as I fight back my emotions. “Go,” I whisper. “I need you to go!”
“Kota, don’t do this.” He takes a step toward me, but I hold my arm out, the look on my face stopping him dead in his tracks. “We can get through this together and you know it. Don’t push me away again.”
I shake my head and back away, unable to think. My heart is being crushed inside my chest, my thoughts a jumbled fucking mess. “I can’t do this right now, Easton.” I choke out. “I can’t look at you right now.” I slam the album closed. “I can’t even look at my damn self. Which means I need you to get inside your truck and drive away.”
He takes another step toward me, his chest falling hard and fast as he watches me back up the steps to get away. “You don’t really want me to drive away right now and I sure as fuck don’t want to. Don’t fucking do this to us. Let me be here for you.”
“Don’t do this to us?” I whisper, my voice shaking as I hold up the photo album like he hasn’t seen me holding it. “Maybe there was never meant to be an us, Easton. Do you get that?”
“Fuck!” He punches his truck a few times, before gripping his hair and slamming the passenger door shut.
Before I can change my mind and go to Easton, I open the door and walk inside, closing it behind me and locking it.
With the album clutched to my chest, I press my back against the door and fall to the ground, my tears wetting Easton’s T-shirt as the guilt I’ve been fighting so hard to push away consumes me again.
The guilt I felt the very first time I kissed Easton—the guilt that brought me to my knees—doesn’t even compare to the crippling guilt I feel right now. Nothing could ever compare to the shitty feeling taking over my entire existence.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to trade places with Quinn right now. At least she was a better sister than I could ever be. Easton was never meant to be mine. This photo album is a reminder of that. The reminder that I needed.
Easton
I haven’t seen or talked to Dakota since she sent me away last night, and because she skipped out on work today, I’m going to show up at her house in hopes she’ll talk to me so we can figure things out.
I hate when she doesn’t answer my phone calls, and she knows more than anyone what happens when she does. I end up right where I am right now, which is outside her house.
Lighting up a cigarette, I stand back for a moment and look at her lit-up garage, trying to figure out what I’m going to say so that she doesn’t push me away again. I can’t handle that shit. Not now after finally having her as mine.
I’ve had a taste and it’s messed me up for life. There’s no walking away from her.
The side door of the garage being opened confirms she’s in there, and that she didn’t just leave the light on, so I toss my cigarette aside and wave away the smoke before making my way down the driveway.
Once I reach the door, I grip the top of the molding and watch her work on my old Harley. It was my very first Motorcycle that I handed down to her, which also made it her first. I made sure of that. It required working at the shop and the pub to ensure I could afford a new bike in time, but it was worth it.
“That thing hasn’t run in years.”
“Shit, Easton!” She drops her tool and looks up, startled, and possibly a little pissed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” Her eyes roam over my chest as she stands and nervously wipes her hands over her jeans. “You can’t just roam around outside my house anymore. You know this, Easton. You shouldn’t even be here.”
I release the molding and step into the garage, keeping my eyes on hers. “You’re lucky I didn’t leave the shop today and come here looking for you when you didn’t show up to work. I thought about it all fucking day too.”
“Don’t come any closer. Stay right there.” She sucks in a breath when I cup her face and move in close. “I said stay away. Why can’t you ever listen?”
I brush my lip ring over her bottom lip, her heavy breath hitting me. “You can’t expect me to stay away from you, Kota. Not after everything we’ve been through lately. I won’t fucking do it.”
“You’re an asshole,” she breathes out.
“Because you know you don’t want me to. You want me here with you. Hope finding out about us hasn’t changed that. Realistically, everyone knows this has been coming for years. They’re idiots if they didn’t.” I breathe against her lips, before tilting her head back. “Am I right?”
She swallows and backs away from me until we’re no longer within touching distance. “That doesn’t matter. There’s so much going on in my head that I can’t function. I can’t think.” She releases a breath and takes another step back. “Hope’s words keep repeating in my head, Easton. About how much Quinn loved you. How do you expect me to look at you right now and not feel sick to my stomach about lying to everyone?”
“Stop, Kota.” I reach out and pull her to me, despite her wanting to keep her distance. “Stop worrying about everyone else and put yourself first for once. Shit! I need to ask you something. Be honest with me.” I grab her chin and tilt it up, wanting her to look at me. “How long have you wanted me? How long have you pretended nothing was there because you were afraid of hurting the ones closest to you?”
She attempts to turn away, but I cup her face with both hands, stopping her before she can. My hands tremble when her green eyes meet mine. “I’ve always wanted you,” she finally says. “I’ve never wanted anyone or anything more than I want you. But that doesn’t mean I should have you.”
“The fuck it doesn’t, Kota. I’m right here in front of you, telling you I want you. Forget about everything else and let us be us. Trust me. I care about Quinn and Roman too, and that will never change. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do what makes us happy. And for me, that’s you. You’re what makes me happy. Always has been.”
Her nostrils flare out as she fights to hide her emotions. “What if it never gets easier? What if the guilt I feel when I think about Quinn never goes away? What then? How the fuck do I live with that?”
“With me at your side,” I say firmly, wiping away the stray tear that rolls down her cheek. “One day at a time is all we need. It’s all I’m asking.”
“I don’t know right now. I need time to think.” She wipes her face and turns around, so I won’t see her struggling not to cry. “It’s late. You should go.”
I move in behind her, my hand brushing over the tattoo on her side that is slightly peeking out from the black bralette she’s wearing. It’s the first time I’ve touched it since that night.
“Don’t!” She pushes my hand away and turns around to face me. “Don’t touch it. What the hell are you thinking? Don’t you…” Stopping, she squeezes her eyes shut. “I shouldn’t have to explain this to you. You know—”
“Kota—that had nothing to do with what happened that night and you know it,” I grind out. “Stop acting like it did. Nothing could’ve changed what happened that night and nothing can change what has happened between us now.”
She looks at me in disbelief. “How do you know that? You don’t. You could never know that.” Her voice comes out shaky as her eyes lock on mine. “And I don’t want to hear shit about us right now. I can’t. Either you leave or I will. Maybe it’s better if you just steer clear of me and spend the rest of your time here with my brother. It’s best for everyone, us included.”
My eyes stay locked with hers as I walk toward her, getting so close that we’re sharing each other’s air. “Fuck that, Kota.” My hands roughly cup her face, causing her breathing to pick up and her eyes to close as I speak against her mouth. “I’m not staying away from you. Push me away, go head, but I’m not giving up that easily. You’ve already learned this once.”
She swallows so hard I can hear it, before her eyes shoot back open and she pushes me away from her as if just the thought of me touching her burns he
r.
“And look at us now, Easton. Look what good that did.” She pulls the black fabric down to cover the bottom of the crown on her side as if she’s ashamed of it. “It’s time for you to leave.”
I take a few steps back, before turning and walking out of the garage, doing what she believes is right for the moment—space.
With my head all screwed up, I walk around for a while, before heading right back to the shithole hotel and pulling out a bottle of whiskey.
I take a few drinks before looking down at my phone when a text from Trevor pops up.
Trevor: Hey, man. Are we going to see you anytime soon? It’s been almost two fucking weeks.
Easton: I don’t know yet.
I send the text and turn my phone over, not wanting to deal with shit for the rest of the night. My head is already too messed up, thinking back on the night that Dakota and I got tattoos together. The fucked-up memory of that night and the hurt look in her eyes at me touching her tattoo is the only reason I left tonight instead of staying and fighting for her.
I can’t mess with that night. It hurts me too. But if Dakota is asking for more time, I can’t give her that. I’m selfish when it comes to her being mine. I’ve come too damn close to give up now.
Dakota
THREE YEARS AGO…
I hate that Easton looks so good behind the bar. I shouldn’t be standing here staring at him the way I am, yet I can’t keep my eyes to myself. Ever since my twenty-first birthday a few weeks ago, I’ve been here more often than I should be. People are going to start thinking I’m an alcoholic.
Quinn is dating Easton, and even she doesn’t hang around here as much as I do. It’s frustrating the way I still feel about him after all this time. The way he’s still the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen, and no other man I have met to date has been able to even compare to him. It’s pure torture.
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