“Okay . . .”
The neon eyes narrowed as they honed in on Lea. “She wants me to meet her parents.”
Lea opened her mouth and then closed it again. She needed to think before she spoke again, because even though Danica munched her apple like she like she was carefree, her eyes hadn’t left Lea’s, clearly gauging her reaction.
Danica was a rare creature. Like an albino deer. Everyone wanted her, but they wanted her to keep. And she didn’t like to be kept. Pinned down. Forced into any sort of consistency.
Her loyalty was unrivaled, but it was hard-earned. Lea still didn’t know how she’d managed to become part of Danica’s inner circle. Which really only consisted of her and Alec.
Lea licked her lips, and even though she knew the answer, she asked anyway. “And how do you feel about that?”
Danica’s black-manicured hand reached up and pushed Lea’s bangs out of her eyes. “Why do I have to do meet them? Why can’t she and I just be together without all . . .” Her hand fluttered as she pulled it away. “ . . . without everyone else.”
Lea took a deep breath. “That’s not really fair to her, Dan. You can’t live your lives in a vacuum.”
“But—”
“You care about her.”
Danica snapped her jaw shut and didn’t deny it.
“She cares about you and if introducing you to her parents is important to her, you need to recognize that, you know?”
Lea liked Monica. And she understood her desire for Danica to meet her parents. Lea hadn’t ever really dated seriously, never cared enough about a boy to want to meet his parents. But she got that it was a big step, the need to introduce your family to the important person in your life.
Danica focused again on that rip in the carpet.
“You’ll think about it?” Lea asked.
She raised her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
A booming laugh caught Lea’s attention. She turned her head toward the sound. Max Payton’s deep voice blasted through the silence of the library as he talked to Cam Ruiz. Students sitting at nearby tables stared at the disruption.
She’d volunteered in libraries since high school, so a loud voice in a quiet room full of books made her react like Pavlov’s dog. So without conscious thought, Lea raised her index finger to her pursed lips. “Shhhhh!”
Max jerked his head up and froze, those chocolate eyes zeroing right in on her finger at her lips. She dropped her hand and gripped her thigh.
And then he strode toward her, all long legs and wide shoulders and big hands. He wore a pair of worn jeans that hung just right on his hips and she clenched her jaw for even noticing. He was a jerk. A jerk with a nice butt and a rip in his jeans that strategically showed an inch of muscular thigh. She hated how the sight of him heated her skin. How his voice rumbled down to her bones.
The asshole.
He stopped a foot away and cocked his head. “Did you just shush me?”
Crap, she did, didn’t she? She shushed him.
“Your voice has a high decibel level.” That was the first brilliant thing that came to mind. She should have said, I carried a watermelon.
“Decibel level?” He raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
And it irritated her.
“This is a library. Students are studying so would it behoove you to keep your voice down?”
“Behoove?”
“Do you only speak in questions?”
“Do you only speak in SAT words?”
They went into a stare down. Lea glared as Max furrowed his brow. Out of the corner of her eye, Lea saw Danica’s gaze ping-pong between the two of them.
Max took a step forward, resting a hand on the shelf beside her head and leaned forward, smelling infuriatingly good, like soap and man. She resisted breathing him in a like a lunatic and instead placed her hands on his chest to push him back. Except her hands met firm pecs and then she wasn’t pushing at all. Instead her fingers curled into the muscle, and she relished the strength under her palms, surrounding her.
She raised her eyes and met his: long lashes surrounding liquid brown. Screw him and his attractiveness. She stiffened and dug her nails through his T-shirt as he grunted but didn’t step away. “Back up, Max.”
Why did he have to be so hot? With those eyes and long lashes and chin dimple? For God’s sake.
“I don’t know if I should,” he said. “Need saving from anything today? I can get my broom.”
If only he knew just how little Lea needed saving. From anything. “Maybe some other girls are impressed by the size of your . . . broom . . . but I’m not.”
He threw back his head and laughed, then clutched her hand where it pressed against his chest. “Oh doll, you wish you could get a shot at checking out my . . .” he leaned close, his minty breath a promise on his lips “ . . . broom.”
She opened her mouth but before she could say anything, Nick went into another coughing fit at the front desk.
Max’s head snapped up, and he looked in Nick’s direction. Then he jolted away from her as if she were on fire, palms out. His eyes now icy cold to douse the flames.
His whole body radiated tension and discomfort. He ran his tongue over his top teeth, a gesture she’d seen him use before when he was uncertain. His one tell. Then he jerked his head in Nick’s direction. “Never mind, you have Nick, huh?”
She blinked at the rapidity of his mood change. She should correct Max, tell him Nick was her cousin, the closest thing to her brother she had. She knew Max had a history with unavailable women. She knew what he’d done to Alec, almost wrecking a decade-long friendship. If he had learned anything from sleeping with his best friend’s girlfriend, it would be to treat non-single women like the plague.
And the way Max was looking at her, she was infected.
Nick as her imaginary boyfriend was her shield. He kept Max at a distance and was her excuse for keeping Max there. She’d seen Max flirt, flashing his smile at girls and pouring on the charm until they were putty in his hands. But not with her. Oh no. He talked to her with a sneering curl to his lip. Well, screw him. She wasn’t interested anyway.
But in the back of her mind, part of her wanted that challenge. She wanted to see what happened to Max Payton once all that charm had drained to zero and the real Max emerged. She’d caught a glimpse the other day when she saw him crouched outside of his townhouse, coaxing the battered cat to eat.
Max shook his head, and the cocky mask returned. He eyed Danica’s shirt. “Hey Axel.”
Danica ran her tongue over her teeth. “Hey Roid Rage.”
Max smirked as he walked backward and raised his fist beside his head in a bicep curl. Then he laughed and turned around.
So Lea got a nice view of his tight butt in those jeans.
Jerk.
She stared holes in his back until Danica stepped into her line of sight.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled.
Lea tugged on the ends of her hair. “I know, he’s such a jerk, right?” She smoothed her shirt and then brushed her fingertips over her warmed cheeks. “I mean, he can’t just say, ‘Oh, sorry for being a loud jerkoff while people are trying to study.’ Noooo, of course he can’t. He has to get all macho and up in my business with his big hands and minty breath and muscles. And what is up with those jeans? They are, like, molded to his body and stuff. I would be doing a public service buying him a new pair. Ugh!” She dropped her hands to her sides in a huff and stared at Danica.
Who wasn’t rolling her eyes about the big jerk. Who wasn’t commiserating. Nope. Danica was smirking.
“What’s that look for?” Lea demanded.
Danica’s smile grew until she curled her tongue along her front teeth. “I’ve never seen you this worked up.”
Lea narrowed her eyes. “I’m not worked up.”
“Uh, yeah you are.”
“No, I’m –“
“Lea, you’re close to fuming.”
“Fuming?”
Danica tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.
Lea growled in the back of her throat. “Okay, I’m irritated.”
Danica rolled her eyes. “Fine, irritated. I’m just saying. For a guy you profess not to like . . . well . . . the lady doth protest too much.”
“You’re quoting Shakespeare now?”
“If the seventeenth-century playwright fits . . .”
“Oh shut up,” Lea said, turning around and slamming a book onto its shelf.
Danica raised a perfectly curved eyebrow. “That was some weird sexual banter.”
“That was not—”
“You were talking about his broom.” Danica practically shouted the last two words on a full-body shudder, and a student walking by jerked his head up and stared at them.
Lea tried to hold in the giggles because they’d already made enough noise, but the laughter couldn’t be contained and burst through her lips. Danica watched Lea dissolve with a grin that proved she struggled holding it in as well.
When Lea composed herself again, Danica sighed. “Look, I just want to say be careful. He’s not boyfriend material.”
Lea bit her lip. Despite Nick’s claim Max was flirting, Lea didn’t believe it. Max wasn’t interested in her. She wouldn’t allow this weird fantasy about getting to know the real Max put her heart in jeopardy.
Danica shifted her weight. “And you know how he treated Kat.”
Lea had heard. He hadn’t been the best or most chivalrous boyfriend to Kat. Sometimes he’d been downright mean. But with help from Alec and Danica, Kat had learned last year she had dyslexia. Thanks to the diagnosis and getting the extra help she needed, Kat’s grades were thriving.
And thanks to Alec’s unconditional love, Kat herself was like a sunbeam.
“And you deserve the absolute best.” Danica was saying. Her expression serious now, those eyes softer. “You know that.”
Lea pursed her lips and nodded. She didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the library. “I know, Danica. I . . . I need to get back to work now, though, okay?”
Danica waited a beat, then nodded. With a hug and a last lingering look, she clomped out of the library, the buckles on her motorcycle boots rattling.
Lea took a deep breath and then turned back to shelving books. She ran her fingers over the worn spines, smoothing peeled tape.
She knew she deserved the best. But the problem was she didn’t trust anyone to give her the best. She’d dated, sure, but she was like a cat. Everything always had to be her idea—where they went, what they did, how soon they kissed and slept together.
Which was why she dated . . . meeker men. Beta men. Not alphas or aggressors like Max. She didn’t want to have to fight for control. She wanted it all.
Max challenged her. Made her feel out of control. Not just his size but his domineering personality. And yet that’s what drew her to him, attracted her, made her wonder if she could get her hands on that attitude and that flesh and mold him . . . oh shit.
She shook her head and slammed another book on the shelf. Screw Max with those warm eyes and big body and perfect smile. Screw him.
She’d never let him get the upper hand. Ever.
SHE FINISHED SHELVING the returns and leaned heavily on the cart as she wheeled it back to the front desk, where her cousin sat.
As an only child, Lea always looked at Nick Lawrence as her brother. He’d been adopted by her aunt and uncle as a baby, and looked nothing like the rest of her brunette family, with his bright blue eyes and thick mop of honey-blond hair. But she liked to think he was the sweetest of all of them.
Nick was three years younger and had attended a different school district from hers, but they’d always remained close. They hadn’t planned on attending college together but it seemed natural when Nick applied and received his acceptance.
Getting a job together in the library was done on purpose.
Now, Nick sat behind the counter, head propped on his palm. His face was pale and he gave one weak cough.
His eyes narrowed as she approached. “Are you telling me Max still thinks I’m your boyfriend?”
Lea’s steps faltered. “What?”
“I’d really prefer not to be caught in the crossfire between whatever the hell is going on with you two.”
“Nothing is going on, Nick.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Denial isn’t just a river—”
She pointed a finger in his face. “Do not finish that sentence or I’ll throw you in a river.”
Nick didn’t look concerned. “I’d love to see you a) find a river and b) try to throw me in.”
“You’re being a pain in the ass right now.”
Nick sighed. “Look, Stone’s a good dude, but Payton is bad news.”
Lea ground her molars. Why did everyone feel the need to warn her? To protect her? Like she didn’t have a brain and couldn’t see or hear Max. Or judge him based on her own experiences.
“I really don’t need a lecture—”
Nick held up his hand. “I know. You would probably chew him up and spit him out before he got your last name—”
“He already knows my last name—”
“Anyway, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not trying to warn you. I know you can take care of yourself around guys. Just stating a fact.”
“Okay, but what about him is so bad? He likes to sleep around? He’s a jerk? I mean, what? And doesn’t he get a shot at being able to change?”
Nick’s eyes softened and his gaze traveled over her body, resting on her hips where he knew ink marked her skin beneath her clothes. She’d used a fake ID at sixteen. That was a rough period in her life which she’d come back from. Changed.
She stood before Nick as proof of it. And he knew it.
“I guess . . .”
“No, honestly. So because he was an asshole in high school, he’s always an asshole now?” And that was the problem. As much as she wanted to hate Max and as much as she thought he was an asshole most of the time, she also glimpsed something else there. A kindness that made her want to dig under the cocky sludge of his exterior and get to his heart.
“Don’t get preachy with me, Lea. Has he been anything other than an asshole to you? Some people don’t change, you know.”
“But some people do. And what, is there a statute of limitations on change? Like, if he hasn’t changed now, he can’t?”
Nick twisted his features. “What is going on with you? Why are you defending him?”
She didn’t know. Why was she? Because the image of him taking care of that stupid cat, the turmoil that swirled in those warm brown eyes, flashed in her head. There was something more to Max than he let on. Another Max.
And she wondered if she’d ever meet him other than in fleeting glimpses.
But she wasn’t going to admit that. Even to Nick. “Just playing devil’s advocate,” she muttered, fingering the sharp edge of the cart.
Nick squinted at her, and she knew he didn’t believe her, but this conversation was over.
Lea glanced at the clock on the wall over his head. “Why don’t you head out early? It’s okay, I have this covered. You don’t look so hot.”
He looked liked he was going to argue but then sighed and rubbed his face. “Fucking sinuses. My head is killing me.”
“Then go. Honestly.”
“Yeah, but sometimes the library picks up now right before close and you’ll be here by yourself . . .”
Lea propped a hand on her hip. “You’re too nice for your own good sometimes. Go. Home. Nick.”
He smiled, a weak smile compared to his usual bright grin.
Nick looked to the front doors at the darkening sky as the sun set. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Trish was going to meet me and walk home with me, but I’ll just text her and tell her I’m heading home early and to head on over to my place.”
“Yes,” Lea said, helping to gather his things. “Shoo.”
Bookbag over one shoulder, Nick slung an arm around her neck and tugged her to him in a quick hug. “Thanks, Lea.”
“Get Trish to make you tea and give you a scalp massage,” she said.
He laughed softly. “Sure, I’ll do that.”
Lea watched him go and then glanced at the clock again. Another couple of hours and then she could go to the gym and relieve some stress. Maybe pretend Max’s face was on a punching bag and beat the crap out of it. She smiled and chuckled to herself. Sounded like a plan.
Chapter 4
MAX DRUMMED HIS fingers on the desk of the recreation center on campus, counting down the minutes until he was off duty. He worked the desk in two-hour shifts a couple of days a week. He made minimum wage but every penny was worth it.
A girl walked up to the desk and handed him her student ID card. He scanned it absentmindedly and handed it back to her so she could head into the gym. She smiled and sauntered away, throwing a look over her shoulder. She was cute—with her blonde hair and hazel eyes—but lately, he’d been in the mood for dark hair, thick bangs and challenging brown eyes.
He rubbed his temples. Shit.
After the whole debacle with Alec’s ex-girlfriend and Kat, Max had sworn off girls. Or at least, sworn them off when he was sober and could remember everything. And especially attached girls.
But from the first moment he saw Lea Travers last year—the pixie face, deep brown eyes, glossy hair—he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He had no business flirting with her, but damn, it made him hard when she pushed back.
Everything about her made him hard.
“Payton.”
His name focused him on the present, reminding him he was at work so thinking about his dick was inappropriate.
The portly frame of Bruce Shaw stepped in front of the desk. He was the recreation director, who managed all the comings and goings of the recreation center and was Max’s boss.
“Yeah, hey Bruce,” he straightened from his hunched position and smiled.
The man clapped him on the shoulder. “Busy tonight?”
Max shrugged. “So-so.”
Bruce—he’d told Max he could call him by his first name during his interview, sophomore year—leaned on the desk. “You ever take any martial-arts classes? Self-defense?”
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