by L. E. Bross
“But I’m a right asshole.” Ryan threw his tools into the box and pushed it shut.
“I have something I need to do. Rain check?”
Ryan immediately swung around. “A chick?”
“Oh, my God. No, I’m not off to do some chick. There’s something wrong with you, you know that, right?” I swung open the rusted door of my truck and climbed in.
Ry puffed out his chest. “Dude, I am so wrong that I’m right.”
“I’ll call you later. Maybe.” The engine turned over and sounded better than it had in ages. Ryan must have tweaked something under the hood. “Thanks again, man. For everything.”
“I got your back, Seth. You know that. Now go, do this mysterious woman, and then tell me all about it.”
I could hear his laughter over the rumble of my exhaust as I drove away.
What a shit head. But he was the best friend I could ever have asked for, and that outweighed all the other shit.
You find out who your real friends are when shit goes down.
I drove into town. The therapist I’d been seeing in prison recommended I take a look at a couple of books now that I was out to help me on my “path to redemption.”
Arnold strongly suggested I go to the library this weekend, so that he could assure the therapist that I was working on myself. Whatever. I’d go, get the damned book, and then take it to my appointment next Friday. That oughta make everyone happy.
Get yourself together and then we can take a real look at college.
Arnold’s words echoed in my head. College. I could go to college. But what the fuck would I even study? I was shit at everything. My parents never finished high school, and unless Davis went to the University of Fucking Drug Dealers, he wasn’t any better.
Sara was always supposed to be the one who made something of herself. Four years younger than me, she was smart and driven and had more potential than anyone else in our trailer park. Christ, the way she played the violin got her middle school music teacher all worked up. Said she was going places if she kept at it. That was before Davis. God, would she ever get that back? Would I ever get my sister back?
I pulled into the parking lot for the library and fought back a wave of panic. The last time I’d been here had been a few months before my mom met Davis. She loved this place and tried to get me and Sara into reading.
I preferred sports magazines to books, but Sara had devoured every single horse novel she could get her hands on. She had a stuffed horse she called Black Beauty. That damned thing went everywhere with her.
I killed the engine and sat staring up at the Gothic-style building.
Sara said it looked like a castle, where a great king and queen lived. I told her that was stupid. Kings and queens don’t live in North Carolina.
I swallowed against the emotion lodged in my throat. This was one of only a few places that I had memories of us all being together and happy.
The lump moved to my gut, and I got out of the truck. In; book; out.
I pushed through the heavy door and then through what looked like a metal detector. Yeah, things had changed since the last time, for sure. The circulation desk was right in the center of the lobby, and that’s where I went.
“Can I help you?” The white-haired woman was old as dirt and so tiny she could barely see above the counter.
“I’m looking for The Art of War, it’s by . . .”
“Sun Tzu, yes, I know. You’ll enjoy that one.” She winked at me and gave me a piece of paper with a number on it. “Second floor, back by the reading room.”
“Thanks.” I headed toward the stairs. The children’s section was on the second floor. I felt ten again, climbing the stairs with my mother and Sara right behind me. I could almost hear her telling me not to run.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did nothing to relieve the pain that had been building since I pulled into the parking lot. I knew it was going to be hard walking into this place, but it felt like my insides were being ripped out.
Damn Davis for everything he took from me.
I needed the book and then I needed to get the fuck out of here before I exploded.
The numbers went up, so I followed the stacks until I found the right one. Halfway down on the left was the one I was looking for. The Art of War. Sounded like the perfect read for someone with anger issues. God, what the hell was my therapist thinking?
I grabbed the book and kept going down the aisle.
No one said I had to actually read it. This was to keep Arnold and the therapist happy.
The row ended in front of a huge open room. The sign over my head said READING ROOM. NO TALKING PLEASE.
There were chairs and tables and couches and the place was almost all windows. Trees and shrubs in containers filled in the gaps. It had a café feel to it, but without the coffee.
This was not here when I was younger. I stepped inside before I realized it. The place was pretty full for a Saturday, and everyone had their noses buried in books. Some were obviously doing work, others were just reading.
There was a free chair by the window that overlooked the small park behind the library. Kids ran around and played all over the place, their shrieks muted by the glass. I sank down into the chair. The park used to be smaller, just two swings and a metal merry-go-round that burned your hands in the summer. Now it had the kind of structures you’d see at some fancy private school.
The contrast between what I remembered and how it was now burned in my gut. The changes, all for the better, should have happened to Sara too. She should have grown up around all this, she should be sitting here cramming for finals.
The room suddenly felt too small. I pushed out of the chair and started back toward the doors. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a blond braid to my right. She was bent over a book and was writing something down in a notebook. When I did a double take, I knew in a second who it was.
What were the chances?
Her head was still down, so I started to walk past her table. Of course she looked up. Her eyes went wide and I heard her pen clink on the table.
“Are you following me?” she demanded in a hissed-out whisper.
“Yeah, I parked outside your house, then followed you to the library. You got me.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. I tried not to notice the way her tongue dipped out and rubbed where she’d just bitten. That worked about as well as ignoring a pink elephant in a tutu.
“Yeah, that was a pretty dumb question,” she said. “I had a rough night, not thinking clearly, obviously.” I moved closer to avoid the glares being sent our way by several nearby people. I kept getting whiffs of her perfume, and that wasn’t distracting at all.
I could do this. Get through one conversation without being an ass. I shifted the book under my arm, and her gaze shot to it.
“The Art of War? You read?” The surprise in her voice pretty much killed any desire to be nice. She could not have been any more condescending if she accused me of being illiterate.
“Usually I only like them there picture books, but decided to try one with actual words,” I said with a sneer. “Jesus, you’re a piece of work.” Before she could say a thing, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room.
What a bitch.
Screw her. If I wanted to damn well read every book in the place, I would. The library in prison was pretty sparse, but I’d read a bunch of classics to pass the time. I might not be able to have some great literary discussion, but I knew who the hell Dickens and Shakespeare were.
It took me fifteen minutes to sign up for a library card and finally get out of the place, and not once did I see a hint of a blond braid anywhere near the circulation desk.
Yeah, I got it. Loud and clear.
If she looked at me one more time, I was going to fucking explode.
You read?
Seriously?
First thing Monday morning, I started in. If she
was going to be a bitch, then I was going to give it right back. It was easy to make comments under my breath when I walked by, or shoot a glare her way every few minutes. By Tuesday, she was throwing pissed-off glances back at me. By Thursday, I was doing it more to see her eyes flash and her breathing get faster. Fuck me if she wasn’t the sexiest thing alive when she was mad.
This new level of antagonism was backfiring on my ass.
I stabbed a McDonald’s bag extra hard.
“You two got a thing going on?” Ian asked me. He looked over to where Avery stood, glaring at me again. “She hasn’t stopped shooting lasers at your back all day, man.”
“Nah, I barely know the chick. I think she might be a little crazy. You know why she’s here?” I asked him.
Ian shook his head. “Nope. You?”
“Not a clue. Maybe she stole her daddy’s credit card and bought out Gucci or something.”
Ian snickered. Everyone knew Avery drove here in a fucking Beemer every day. I saw her eyes get narrower, and I stared right back so that she’d know we were talking about her. I swore I could see steam coming out of her ears, and it only made me grin harder.
“Uh-oh,” Ian said a second before I realized Avery was stomping her sexy little orange-covered ass straight toward me. “I’m outta here. She kinda scares me, man.”
Avery stormed up and stopped only when we were toe to toe. She squinted against the sun and glared up at me. “What the hell is your problem?”
“No problem, Princess.” I stared down at her, refusing to look away. She reminded me of a pissed-off kitten, which made me grin, which only made her madder.
If Ryan were next to me, he’d be asking what the fuck I was doing. I honestly had no idea. At first I had genuinely not liked her, especially after I found out who, or what, she really was.
But damn me if my pulse didn’t jump every time I looked at her. Especially when she was all flushed and wound up like this. Another image, one of her naked on her back, with that same look on her face, reared up unbidden, and I felt my muscles jerk tight.
Shit.
Avery planted her fists on her hips and stamped her foot. “Why can’t we just ignore each other? Civilized disregard? Mutual inattention?”
What the hell was civilized disregard? It sounded like some kind of legal term. I lifted one eyebrow and kept quiet, waiting to see what was next. God, I loved watching her like this. And goading her was the surest way to send her over the top.
She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Yes, okay, I was a total bitch at the library. You took me by surprise and I was hungover and I acted without thinking. I’m sorry and I hope you’re enjoying Sun Tzu because it’s a really good read, but it’s more than that. It’s the condescending tone in your voice whenever you actually talk to me, or that stupid way you lift one eyebrow and smirk whenever I say anything. You make me feel like an idiot, you know.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. Mainly to keep from reaching out and grabbing her. All that shit was to keep her away from me, and now she was calling me out on it. What the hell was I supposed to do? I wasn’t normally an asshole. I hated acting like one.
But for whatever fucked-up reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. If we actually stopped fighting, I might do something really screwed up, like kiss her.
We stood staring at each other for what felt like hours. I don’t know what she was looking for, but something in her face shifted. She tilted her head to the side and looked right into my eyes.
“So which Seth is the real one?” she asked. “The guy who hurls insults at me like I’m a dartboard, or the one who carries Sasha’s bags because they’re too heavy? The guy who glares at me for hours on end, or the one who gave Ian a ride home yesterday because his mom needed his help? I can’t figure you out.”
Shit. I could feel myself giving in. I knew she saw the asshole moves I made toward her, but I never thought she’d see the other stuff. I didn’t know she was even looking.
“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me, Princess.” I lifted an eyebrow and smirked, because she had called that out specifically.
That should set her off.
“I know you bring out the worst in me. I’ve never acted like this before in my life.”
“So we agree that we should just keep away from each other, then.” Why the hell was my heart hammering so damned hard against my ribs?
Avery took a step closer. She looked up at me from under her long eyelashes and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. One of these times I was going to lean down and do that for her.
“We probably should,” she said. Except her voice was a little breathy and the sound shot straight south. She took another step closer until her sneakers were almost touching the toes of my boots. “Or we could start over?”
Wait, what the fuck? Was she serious? This was a joke, right?
But then she stuck out her blue-gloved hand. “Hi, I’m Avery.”
I stared at her hand, not able to move.
This close I could smell her perfume, and it was killing me. Images from the night at O’Malley’s flooded my brain. I remembered how she felt under my hands, how she tasted on my lips. I was cracking, I could feel it.
She was too damned close for me to push her away.
Avery leaned in close and in a stage whisper said, “This is where you tell me your name.”
I glanced around, but everyone else was busy and too far away to notice us. A small smile played over her lips, drawing my gaze down to them.
Panic shot through my veins with fiery intensity. No. Oh, hell no. But arguing with myself didn’t change a thing. I wanted her. So bad.
I struggled for the anger, the familiar burn that would make me turn away, but it wasn’t there. So far, she was nothing like Melissa. But somehow I’d already figured that out. It was the only thing keeping a rein on the urge to drag her into my arms. Now that it was gone, I couldn’t stop myself.
I needed to focus. Ryan hadn’t had any luck finding me a job. I needed to pay the lawyer. Needed to save my sister. Needed a million other things that weren’t Avery.
But I’ve never really been good at staying away from what I want.
And fuck me if I didn’t want her more than almost anything I ever had.
I reached out and took her extended hand and tugged her closer.
Her hand came up and rested against my chest. I’m sure she could feel the way my heart was pounding. The smile on her lips fell away and her tongue darted out to nervously run along her bottom lip. I tried to think of something to say that would make her turn away, but there was nothing there.
Before I could stop myself, I leaned down and did the same thing she’d done, only with my tongue. Her gasp turned into a groan when I did it again to her top lip. She bunched my T-shirt in her fist and pushed her body closer.
The blue in her eyes darkened.
When she pressed her lips against mine, I lost it. I wrapped one arm around her waist and held her as tight against me as possible. Looking down, I knew that the desire I saw mirrored mine. I wanted her so fucking bad it hurt to think.
“It’s nice to meet you, Avery,” I whispered against her lips.
She made this sexy noise in the back of her throat, and I got harder than I thought possible. I had to taste her again. Her lips parted, and I brushed over them a couple of times.
“What the hell are you two doing?” a voice barked.
I jerked back, and Rick was standing there scowling at us. “This isn’t a goddamned dating service. This happens again, you both get written up.” He narrowed his eyes on me. “Violating your parole would not be a good thing, kid.”
Fuck. I took another step away from Avery.
I saw several curious glances shooting our way and a couple of smirks that made me want to punch something.
“Sorry,” Avery said sheepishly, looking a little humiliated.
Before I did something stupid and called Rick out for being a major cockblock,
I grabbed the stick and swung around, walking away from him and Avery.
“It’d be best if you avoided that one,” I heard Rick say.
“Thanks for the advice, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”
I smiled at the bitchiness in her tone. The urge to take one more look before I was too far away had me glancing back over my shoulder. Avery had picked up her stick and bag and was heading back toward Sasha.
Rick pulled out his cell and started typing. His glance kept sliding to Avery, and a frown marred his face. Finally he put the phone back and turned around toward the bus.
I watched for a few more seconds, trying to figure out what the hell that just was.
“Dude, I thought you said there wasn’t anything going on with you two. That was almost as good as watching porn.” Ian stepped up beside me and clasped his hand on my shoulder. “You’re gonna be in trouble, man.”
He laughed and pointed to where Avery was being animatedly grilled by Sasha. When her eyes swung to me, a sexy smile curled her lips up and sent all the blood racing back to my dick. And did weird things to other parts of me too.
“Christ, I already am,” I told Ian.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Avery
“See you tomorrow,” I said to Seth as we were walking to the exit doors side by side. After our . . . whatever the hell that was earlier, I hadn’t been able to concentrate for anything.
Maybe Shari was right. Those looks he shot me were definitely not screaming go away. I’d been on edge the rest of the afternoon after our almost kiss. What if I gave in just one time? I’d never felt this kind of sexual urgency with Grant. I never craved Grant’s touch or held my breath hoping he’d kiss me.
Seth had gotten under my skin big time.
“Have a good night, Avery,” Seth said over his shoulder. His gaze lingered a few seconds longer than necessary, and I felt my skin start to heat. I needed to look away, but I couldn’t. Something flickered in Seth’s eyes, and it sent a stab of longing straight between my legs.
If I had the nerve, I’d walk up to him and ask him to take me home.
“Avery,” Rick called out behind me.