Once you figure out what you want, it’s impossible to ignore what you need.
Portland Rebels, Book 2
Jamie Matthews is stuck in a rut. After hitting a wall with her dream career, she’s back in her hometown, living a life as monotonous as swimming laps in the neighborhood pool.
Being surrounded by her perfect brothers is a painful reminder of her failure to launch. The last bonfire of the summer is an ideal way to let off steam, especially when she runs into Dean Trescott, the playboy friend she had one hot-as-hell night with back in high school.
Since the day Dean met Jamie, he’s loved her beauty, talent, and smile that lit up the whole damn block. But dating isn’t an option. She has a bright future ahead of her, and he refuses to chain her to his—helping run the family business that’s barely staying afloat.
A “what-happens-in-Vegas” weekend was supposed to get their craving for each other out of their systems. But neither counted on the past repeating itself, drawing them together in even hotter and dirtier ways and dangling the possibility they might both be able to get exactly what they need…
Warning: A friends-to-lovers twice over story that contains some hot ’n’ heavy kissing in the waves, hair pulling, and a man who knows how to use his hands. It may also feature a few practical jokes—only the fun kind, of course.
The Hierarchy of Needs
Rebecca Grace Allen
Dedication
This book never would’ve made it anywhere without the help of many wonderful people. Thanks so much to Amy C., who explained the Hierarchy of Needs to me when I was just getting it off the ground. To the art and photography teachers at Mount Desert Island Regional School System in Maine who let me pick their brains. Tara Sue Me, who sat on the other end of a G-chat conversation for months and never let me give up. Max and Dani, for filling in the blanks on competitive swimming. A.J., Alex, Autumn, Betsy, Jess, Kim and Matt—thanks for giving me feedback on the first version, the second and for some of you, even the sixth. A huge thank you goes out to my editor, Christa, for giving me the direction I needed when this book hit a total wall. And finally, thank you to my parents and husband, for giving me the amazing opportunity to do this whole crazy writing thing in the first place. I love you.
Chapter One
Jamie Matthews paced in the foyer by her front door, as far away from her family as she could get. The house was filled to capacity now that her brothers were home. Two days and it was already too much to handle. Another minute and she was going to strangle someone.
And Krissy was taking forever to get ready.
Trying to corral her impatience, Jamie swung her arms out from side to side. A decade of swimming had hewn them into powerful machines. She’d hoped her shoulders would return to something resembling normal when she stopped competing. No such luck, but she could rock a tank top and jeans like nobody’s business, and she had every intention of looking good tonight.
It was the last Friday of September, and the final bonfire of the season. She’d been itching for the escape for hours, wanting to trade the suffocating weight of her brothers’ presence for a couple of beers, the roaring ocean and a crackling flame.
Not to mention the fact that Dean Trescott would be there.
Jamie’s stomach did a little somersault, which frustrated the hell out of her. She and Dean were just friends now, and good ones at that. Her fluttering pulse was only because he was fun to be around, and she was looking forward to seeing him.
There was nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all.
She bent over to touch her fingers to her toes as feet thundered down the stairs. A pair of sneakers appeared in her line of sight.
“Out of my way, poodle head.” The words were accompanied by a rough scratch to her scalp. She snapped her body upward and glowered at her oldest brother.
“Don’t call me that,” Jamie said, tucking the curls he’d pulled loose from her bun back into place. The ten-year age difference between her and Sean always put them at odds. Despite the fact that they were both adults now, he still made her feel like a child.
She was also the only Matthews child who’d inherited her father’s unruly locks, earning her the lovely nickname.
“Call it payback for tying my keys to the wind chime this morning,” he said. “Jesus, Jamie. Are you ever going to grow up?”
Jamie gave him her most saccharine smile. She’d been up since five—the result of an internal alarm clock that woke her before dawn even though she hadn’t had practice or a meet since college—and had used the extra time to figure out which member of the family she’d be pranking.
Sean was so wrapped up in his fiancée he was obviously the easy target.
“I was bored,” she said. “Besides, someone’s gotta teach Kim the ropes around here.”
The woman in question came down the steps to join them. Kim and her younger sister Krissy were the Matthews’ houseguests for the weekend. Their parents were staying at a hotel, but Jamie’s mother had insisted on putting the bride and her sister up, saying they had plenty of room.
“I appreciated the lesson, Jamie,” Kim said. “But how about we lay off the practical jokes until after the wedding?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Jamie,” Sean warned.
“Sean,” she sang back.
The jokes had never gone too far—good-natured ones she’d played on them in the name of sibling fun. Tape on their light switches. Taking the batteries out of their remotes. Resetting their clocks so they thought they were late for school. It stopped being funny when they hit their teens, but it was Jamie’s way of getting hers. Of leveling the playing field when there was no way she could match up to them academically.
She’d fallen out of the habit since they’d moved out, but having all three of them home for the weekend, using the nickname she hated and harassing her over her failure to launch, was enough to trigger it again.
Kim wrapped a protective arm around Sean’s waist. Whether it was to comfort him or stop him from throttling her, Jamie wasn’t sure.
She let out a heavy sigh. Sean’s teasing seemed to bring out the worst in her, but she didn’t have to act so childish. She was happy for him, after all. She could fight the feeling that she was still the baby in a group full of successful adults.
“Fine,” she said dramatically. “No more pranks until after you’re married. But only because Kim asked me to.”
A creak on the second floor landing drew Jamie’s attention upward. Krissy finally hopped down the stairs.
“Sorry I took so long,” she said. “I was figuring out what to wear.”
Jamie eyed her clothes. White stonewashed jeans and a plaid button-down topped with a bright red vest. Combined with Krissy’s huge tortoise-shell glasses, the outfit was almost painful to look at. Jamie hadn’t been thrilled with having to entertain Krissy that evening. She was still in college, her outward appearance so odd Jamie was sure they wouldn’t have a thing to talk about, not to mention the tiny bit of jealousy she harbored over the place Krissy called home. But she hadn’t wanted to argue with her mother when the request had been made, and hanging with Krissy was a way out of this house.
“You look…great.”
Good thing Jamie wasn’t a Disney character, or her nose would’ve reached Pinocchio proportions. She snatched her jacket and yanked the door open.
“We’re leaving,” Jamie hollered past Sean and Kim, hoping her parents would hear. “Bye.”
They
were out on the porch and heading to the sidewalk before anyone had time to reply. Krissy frowned and looked back over her shoulder.
“I feel bad not staying,” she said. “Don’t they need our help?”
Guilt flickered briefly. They’d left behind a table covered with seating cards and lobster-shaped lollipops waiting to be affixed together with twine. It was part of the coastal chic wedding theme: the decor was nautical, everything decked out in true Down East flair. They probably could’ve used another pair of hands, but a break before the festivities began was essential.
Besides, crafts weren’t exactly Jamie’s strong point. She didn’t need a reminder of that.
“Nah,” she answered, pulling her jacket on. It was a struggle to fit the denim over her shoulders. “Kim and my mom have it covered.”
Jamie fought with the fabric until it stretched into place, then picked up her pace, leading Krissy in the direction of the shore. She looked straight ahead, ignoring the reminders of the seasonal shift she always dreaded: the pine needles making a brittle carpet on the pavement, the pumpkins decorating her neighbors’ lawns. Autumn was a time to turn away from everything carefree and buckle down, but Jamie didn’t know how to do that. It wasn’t like she’d had an actual career to return to when summer ended. She’d traded lifeguarding at the beach for doubling up on her swim lessons, spending all her time at the community center pool instead of the ocean.
A horn honked as a car passed them. Jamie waved, vaguely recognizing the driver and passengers.
“You seem to know a lot of people,” Krissy noted.
“Nah. Just a side effect of having been here my entire life.”
Well, not her whole life. Technically she’d spent four years of it swimming, partying and occasionally studying at the University of New England before moving back into her childhood bedroom. It had been her only option, since the job she’d gotten at the center didn’t pay well. The scenario wasn’t ideal, but she’d learned to be okay with it.
It was only when The Three Doctors Matthews flew back to the coop, blinding everyone with their golden lights of achievement, that she doubted herself.
The musky scent of burning wood wafted toward them as they reached the cove. Jamie’s skin prickled when she saw an old pick-up truck by the side of the road. It was a red harbinger of the past. One glimpse at it, and she was flooded with memories: night sky, ocean smell, balmy spring air. Beach blankets forming a cushioned barrier between her body and the flatbed. The taste of beer in Dean’s kiss.
His eyes on hers, his hands tangled in her hair. Her wrists pinned above her head. An orgasm so intense she still remembered every shuddering detail.
Her skin came alive, little pinpricks that matched the tightening of her nipples. Six years had passed, and even though they hadn’t had sex, memories of that night still made her pulse race. They shouldn’t have, since Dean had come to her a day later saying it had been a mistake, one born out of hormones and too much beer, and asking, “We still good?”
His rejection was like belly-flopping into an ice-cold pool, but Jamie and disappointment had become old friends at that point, and she’d taught herself how to recover.
She’d blown it off with a smile.
The few remaining months of high school had been awkward after that, but they’d settled into a comfortable friendship once she moved back home. Even started flirting again.
It didn’t mean anything. Dean flirted with everyone. His inability to commit was actually something they had in common.
Neither of them did relationships, although Dean’s turnover rate was a bit higher than hers. There was always some girl hanging on him, another thing Jamie had learned to laugh at. Sure, it bothered her a little every time she watched him disappear with anyone who flashed him some bare skin, but the competition didn’t matter when you weren’t even in the race.
The legendary Dean Trescott possessed a charm few could resist, but his flirting was nothing more than words when it came to her.
It was fine. She didn’t actually want to go there again and risk fucking up their friendship, but that night with him was something she kept on a high shelf in her head. A decadent reminiscence she retreated to when she was alone.
It got her there. Every time.
She’d never known why his rough grip had turned her on so much, or how his playful tug to her hair became a trigger point, a good kind of hurt that rocketed down between her legs until her mind blanked out. Why his stare had seemed to seize her, her body coming alive with a raw, desperate need she hadn’t felt before.
Or since.
Jamie shook the memory off. It was ancient history. One never to be repeated. Still, it would be awesome if they could escape to some kind of alternate universe for something brief, wild and sweaty, then go back to reality and pretend it never happened.
“Who are we hanging out with tonight?”
Krissy’s question yanked Jamie back into the present.
“Just my friends,” she replied, hoping her blasé expression would mask the restless energy pumping through her. “Three guys I grew up with and have known forever.”
The soft hisses and sizzling pops of the bonfire guided her toward where Dean and her friends were sitting. They made a semi-circle by the lifeguard stand she’d spent the summer perched on, a plume of smoke between them spiraling up toward the sky.
Jamie gripped the peeling white wood and swung her body around it, throwing herself into a grand entrance.
“Hello, boys.”
Dean had the mouth of an open beer bottle by his lips, but paused when he saw her, his lips curling up into a smirk. His chin was masked by the day’s worth of stubble he always seemed to have. His crop of dirty blond hair was cut close on the sides but longer in the front, a few slightly mussed strands hanging down low over his eyes. Every inch of him said confident and relaxed, from his ever-present work boots to the swirling lines of ink that wound like ivy from his wrist to his neck.
He was sex incarnate, a wolf on the prowl in a black T-shirt and jeans.
“Jamie Matthews. My favorite girl.”
“Oh, I’m still your favorite, huh?”
She was no more his favorite than the last piece of ass he’d hooked up with, but she liked the nickname nonetheless. She also liked the way his gaze swooped from her face to her breasts and back up again. It was part of the game they played, one she wanted to lose herself in tonight.
He grinned. “Of course.”
“Good to know.” Jamie dropped to the sand by his side, kicked off her flip-flops and stretched out her legs. “I guess that means I’m entitled to your beer.”
She snagged his bottle from his fingertips and took a deep, icy swallow.
“Oh, go right ahead.” Dean’s voice oozed with sarcasm, but there was humor behind it. He nodded to Krissy. “And who’s this?”
“This is Sean’s fiancée’s sister. She’s staying with us for the weekend, and I thought we’d show her how we party down at the shore.” Jamie pointed her bottle toward each of the guys. “Krissy, this is Dean, Connor and Mikey.”
“Krissy, glad you could join us.”
Dean angled an arm out toward the cooler. The move lifted his shirt an inch, revealing a slice of skin. His belly wasn’t as firm as it had been back in high school, but it was still sexy to see. As was the soft trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans.
Jamie licked her lips and looked away.
Dean popped open a bottle and offered it to Krissy. She was still standing, looking like she wasn’t sure where to put herself.
“Thanks,” she replied, finally taking the beer and sitting down.
“No problem. Where are you visiting us from?”
She took a sip and winced. “Manhattan. I’m a theater student at N.Y.U.”
Jamie cringed, a move Dean noticed, and she hid her frown with
a swig of her drink. Her pipe dream of becoming a fashion designer in New York City was something she hadn’t told him about years ago, and she wasn’t about to now.
His gaze stayed on hers until Connor cleared his throat. On the other side of their circle, Mikey’s mouth was hanging open, and he was all-out staring at Krissy.
Connor gave their wiry, black-haired friend a subtle thump on the shoulder.
“Hey,” Mikey sputtered. “Krissy. It’s nice to meet you.”
Dean chuckled into his beer, and Jamie jammed her elbow into his side. He grunted, then laughed. The warm, low sound made her flush with pleasure. Their eyes met, locking for a beat longer than necessary, and her lungs forgot how to work for a second, her belly going tight on a frozen inhale. Whenever he looked straight at her, the space between them somehow seemed to grow smaller, her body pinned in place even though he hadn’t touched her, breath going still as if he had.
Krissy smiled at him, then asked, “How do you all know each other?”
“Detention,” Jamie and Dean answered in unison.
“Seriously?” Krissy looked so shocked, it was hard not to laugh. Her owl-eyes centered on Jamie. “You were in detention?”
Jamie raised her bottle in a toast. “I was the only Matthews child to ever end up there.”
Krissy’s mouth gaped open. “A lot?”
“Once, in tenth grade. We were having a test in history, but I had a meet the night before and didn’t have time to study. So I stole the exams off my teacher’s desk and threw them out the window when he wasn’t looking.”
“And you got caught.”
“Oh, she got caught, all right,” Dean interjected. “And ended up being carted into the South Portland High Slammer, just like the rest of us.”
He gave her an appreciative smile, one that said Good job, Matthews. Jamie couldn’t stop herself from grinning back.
Mikey’s hands flew to his chest. “I never got detention. I just hung out with them afterward.”
Connor chuckled. “This isn’t confession, Mikey.”
The Hierarchy of Needs (The Portland Rebels #2) Page 1