The Trouble With You
Page 1
Also by L. A. Cotton
Chastity Falls
Loyalty and Lies
Salvation and Secrets
Tribulation and Truths
Affliction
Redemption and Regrets
Penance and Promises
Absolution
Fate's Love
Fate's Love
Love's Spark
Love Collides
Liar Liar
Liar Liar
Truth or Dare
Rixon Raiders
The Trouble With You
The Game You Play (Coming Soon)
The Maverick Defense Series
Deliverance
Wicked Bay
Wicked Beginnings
Wicked Rules
Wicked Lies
Wicked Games
Wicked Needs
Wicked Surprise
Wicked Hearts
Wicked Promises (Coming Soon)
Standalone
Lucky Penny
Chastity Falls: Box Set
Watch for more at L. A. Cotton’s site.
The Trouble with You
A Rixon Raiders Novel
l a cotton
Contents
Rixon Raiders
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Playlist
Wicked Beginnings
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Titles
Published by Delesty Books
* * *
THE TROUBLE WITH YOU
* * *
Print Edition
Copyright © L A Cotton 2019
All rights reserved.
* * *
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
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Edited by Andrea M Long
Cover Designed by Lianne Cotton
Formatting by The Graphics Shed
Images licensed from Adobe Stock and Shutterstock
Rixon Raiders
The Trouble With You
The Game You Play
The Harder You Fall
To anyone struggling to balance what you think you should be doing with what you want to do…
* * *
We only get one life.
* * *
Live it.
Hailee
“Son of a bitch.” I slammed my dresser drawer shut and stomped into the bathroom adjoining my room. The one I grudgingly shared with my step-brother.
“Jason!” I yelled, rooting through the laundry hamper, clothes flying everywhere. My breath came in short, sharp bursts. “Jason, I swear to God, I’m going to—”
“Problem, sweetheart?” Mom’s head appeared around the door. She caught a flying tee and balled it up, looking at me like I’d lost my freaking mind.
“Jason stole all my bras.”
“Hailee Raine, I’m sure he did no such thing.” Her expression slipped, her filler-smooth forehead cracking as much as it could. “Are you sure they aren’t just all in there?” She motioned to the hamper; the one I was still rummaging through like a crazy person.
My brow rose as I ground out, “He took them. I’ll kill him.”
“Sweetheart.” She let out weary sigh. “Can you and Jason please try to get along this year? It’s senior year, you’re practically adults. These silly little pranks you two play on—”
“Denise, have you seen my wallet?”
“I think you had it by the coffeemaker,” Mom shouted down to her new husband, my step-dad, Kent. “I’d better go help him and then I need to scoot, or I’ll be late for the gym, but, baby?” She paused, peering back into the bathroom. “Please try, for me.”
“Sure thing, Mom, see you later,” I said through gritted teeth, the lie rolling off my tongue easily. She smiled, wishing me a good first day before disappearing down the hall.
I’d learned a long time ago not to expect Mom to intervene in one of mine and Jason’s wars. But it didn’t matter; I hadn’t needed her to fight my battles for a long time.
“Jason,” I yelled, storming into his bedroom. I didn’t even bother knocking, walking straight inside. Lucky for me, he was just pulling on his jeans. Although it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d seen him butt naked.
“Good morning to you too,” he said drolly, running a hand through his bed hair.
“Where are they?”
“They?” His brows crinkled but his mask of innocence wasn’t fooling me.
“My bras, jackass. I know you took them.”
“If I wanted to steal bras, I could think of more creative ways.” His eyes danced with amusement and I narrowed my gaze, cutting him with a hard look.
“It’s the first day of school. I need a bra.” No way could I survive a whole day without one. I wasn’t one of those girls with a washboard stomach and flat chest. I had curves, more than I cared for at times; especially in gym class when Mr. Tinney made us play dodgeball or volleyball.
“Give me one back,” I said. “And we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.”
“I have no idea what you’re—”
“You want war?” I hissed feeling a ripple of irritation spread through me. “Fine, but don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
“Ooh, I’m running scared. What are you going to do? Cut me with those?” Jason smirked, dropping his eyes to my chest, where my nipples had hardened with the cool air. I threw my hands around myself, anger bubbling beneath my veins.
Hate was a strong word, but it was the only noun to accurately describe what I felt for my step-brother. He chuckled, throwing random items into his backpack. I was surprised he was even bothering. Senior year was basically a formality for the Rixon Raiders. They would spend more time on the football field this semester than sitting in class. Because their performance on the field was far more important than any test score, obviously.
Rolling my eyes, I bit out, “This is really how you want to play it?” I gave him one more chance to concede, but I should have known he wouldn’t. Jason Ford might have been my step-brother, but he was still an asshole of epic proportions.
“Like I said, Hailee Raine…” He looked so smug, knowing how much I hated when my mom called me that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I flipped him off before stomping out of there, his smug laughter rolling off my shoulders.
When I finally padded downstairs fifteen minutes later, Kent frowned at me, or rather, my outfit. “Don’t ask,” I said, in no mood for one of his lame attempts at a joke.
“Wasn’t going to say a thing,” he replied around a half-smile, as I grabbed the Pop-Tart box from the cabinet and shoved one in the toaster.
“Those things will rot your teeth.”
“Does this face look like it cares?”
“Let’s be honest.” Jason breezed into the room. “No one’s going to be looking at your face today.”
“Fuck you,” I mouthed.
“I heard that,” Kent grumbled earning me a snicker from Jason.
They were as bad as each other. Like father, like son. Jason had his dad’s good looks: unruly brown hair, ice blue eyes framed by long lashes, and a smile that could charm even the most prudish girl to drop her panties. But it was more than that. Jason came from a long line of football players. Rumor around town was Kent had been headed straight to the NFL before a senior-year injury ended his successful college career with the Penn Quakers. It must have been a bitter pill to swallow, but now Jason was set to follow in his footsteps. And the whole town couldn’t be prouder. Someone pass me the bucket.
The toaster popped, and I pulled off a piece of paper towel, using it as a glove to retrieve the Pop-Tart. “That’s me, bye,” I said. “Try not to break a leg.” I winked at Jason before leaving the house.
My best friend Felicity—or Flick as I tended to call her—was already waiting for me at the end of the driveway in her sunflower yellow Beetle. “That’s an interesting look you have going on there.” She smothered a laugh as I climbed inside.
“Ugh, don’t.” I shoved my glasses onto my head to keep my hair from my face as I bit into the Pop-Tart, letting the sugary overload tamp down some of my anger. “Jason stole all my bras.”
I’d had to improvise and wear a bikini top. It had a little padding, but it was obvious to anyone who knew me I didn’t have my usual support. With the weather still warm though, it wasn’t like I could wear anything other than a t-shirt. Not unless I wanted to spend the day sweating and unsupported.
Flick snickered as she drove off. “You’d really think he has more important things to do with his life given it’s senior year.”
“Oh no, Jason still has more than enough time to make my life hell. But don’t worry.” I flashed her a secretive smile. “I’m plotting his demise as we speak.”
She grimaced. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed you putting him in his place a time or two over the last few years, but don’t you think you should maybe... back off? He was bad last year but this year he’ll be...” She shuddered, not finishing her thought.
Flick was right.
Ever since Jason and I were forced upon one another in sixth grade, when his dad and my mom announced they were moving in together, we’d been at war. Jason didn’t want a sister and I had no time for a brother. Especially one as annoying and conceited as Jason. We were polar opposites—him: popular and athletic; and me: artsy and free-spirited. Jason lived and breathed football, like most of Rixon. But not me. I barely even knew the rules of play. Needless to say, as we got older, the rift between us only grew. He loved nothing more than to piss me the hell off and I loved nothing more than spending my days plotting my sweet revenge.
“Just because everyone else thinks the sun shines out of his ass, doesn’t mean I have to lie down at his feet and take his shit.”
Flick’s brow shot up. “He does have a rather fine ass though.”
“Take that back.” I almost choked on a mouthful of Pop-Tart. “Take that back, right now.”
“What?” Her soft laughter filled the car. “I’d never sample the goods, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”
“Oh my god, I can’t listen to this. Not first thing on a Monday morning.” I jammed my fingers in my ears, but she wouldn’t shut up.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a sneak peek at the guys when they’re over? You must have checked out Asher or Cameron’s—”
“Felicity Giles, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
“What?” She grinned. “I’m just saying, I’m all for hating on the football team, but it doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate their physical—”
“Stop.” I leaned over clapping my hand over her mouth. “Would you just stop, already?”
I didn’t want to think about Jason and his friends that way. Especially not Cameron Chase. He had reveled in making my life miserable as much as my step-brother ever since we started junior high together. Granted, it hadn’t always been that way. When we’d first moved in with Jason and his dad, Cameron had been a buffer to his best friend’s open-hostility toward me. For the last five months of sixth grade I’d foolishly believed we might become friends. But then the summer before junior high happened and everything changed.
Everything.
And I realized Cameron Chase was a douchebag just like my new step-brother.
Rixon High School came into view and Flick pulled into the parking lot, her vintage yellow Beetle sticking out like a sore thumb next to all the shiny new Hondas and Fords. Like me, my best friend didn’t conform to the masses. We climbed out and made our way toward the school building, and all my earlier anger dissolved at the prospect of getting back in the studio. Unlike most of my classmates who were excited to be back amongst their friends, reliving memories of their summer escapades, I was itching to get back to class, notably art class.
“Breathe it all in.” Flick inhaled deeply as we reached the doors. “Our last first day at high school. We’ll never start a new year here again. Next year, we’ll be freshmen.”
I grabbed the door handle and glanced back at her. “We’d better make it count then.” I smiled. A genuine honest-to-god smile. Because she was right.
One year.
I only had to survive one more year. Of this town and its beloved football team; of my step-brother and his asshole friends.
Then I’d be free.
But despite my excitement at what the future held—far far away from Rixon, if I had anything to do with it—it was senior year, and I intended on making the most of it.
Then a familiar voice washed over me, a cruel reminder from the Universe that while I still roamed the halls of Rixon High, there was no escaping them.
“Looking good, Sunshine.”
My eyes snapped up to find Cameron Chase, Rixon Raiders star wide receiver and my step-brother’s best friend, smirking at me. “You know I don’t like being called that,” I said calmly, schooling my irritation.
“I know,” he replied with an air of indifference, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Nice ti… t-shirt.” His gaze dropped to my chest before lifting slowly to my face again, amusement dancing in his murky blue eyes. “Is it cold in here or are just happy to see me?”
Cameron winked, before slipping around me and Flick. He shoved my hand off the door handle and I jerked back, caught off-guard by the tiny bolts of electricity shooting through me. He paused for a second, looking at his hand, before shaking his head and ducking inside the building, letting the door slam closed behind him... and right in my face.
With a heavy sigh, I yanked it open and slipped inside, Flick trailing after me. “Just look at that ass,” she whispered, leaning in close, watching Cameron’s retreating form as kids tripped over themselves to move out of his way. But I wasn’t looking at his ass. My eyes were burning into the back of his head, imagining all the painful ways I could hurt him. He glanced over his shoulder, our eyes locking, and I let out a frustrated groan.
I knew that look.
I’d seen it enough over the years. But I’d never seen it from Cameron before. Sure, he went along with Jason’s pranks and efforts to find new ways to piss me off. But he’d never been so blatant about it.
I glare
d back, willing him to look away. But to my surprise—and irritation—he turned around fully, walking backward, his eyes still set right on me. My stomach knotted, the intensity in his gaze disarming. He looked like he either wanted to kill me or devour me, and knowing Cameron the way I did, I knew it wasn’t the latter.
Shit, what had him so worked up?
Except for the wedding, I’d avoided the three of them as much as possible over the summer. They had been gone a lot: attending football camps, and then summer practice, and Mr. Bennet had let them vacation at his place in The Hamptons as a pre-birthday treat for Asher. On the rare occasion they were over at the house, I made myself scarce, locking myself away in my bedroom. But from the way Cameron was looking at me, anyone would think I’d killed his puppy and he wanted slow, painful revenge.
“Hmm, Hails, what is happening right now?” Flick’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, but it wasn’t enough to save me from the trap he’d ensnared me in. “Why is Cameron looking at you like that?” She looped her arm through mine, but before I could respond, Jason appeared out of nowhere and slammed into Cameron, the two of them doing that awkward guy hug thing. I finally shook off the lingering feel of his eyes and went to my locker.