The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  Home.

  Tessa is on the phone in the back seat, talking to whom I assume is Emma.

  “We’re on our way,” she whispers. “I agree. Maddox and Harper’s have the best security and is far off the road.” She sighs. “We’ll see you in about an hour.”

  Dad clamps his hand on my shoulder. “Get some sleep, Logan. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

  I want to tell him to fucking sleep, which would be stupid since he’s driving, but I’m sure as hell not thinking straight.

  When I close my eyes, the darkness behind them is filled with her.

  In the dark, the lines between love and hate become blurred.

  Love?

  What a bunch of shit.

  I want to know how the hell I let it happen, so I think back...

  §

  “Tell me I look pretty.”

  When she asks me to tell her that, I think she’s being a smart ass. I think she’s being...London.

  She leans in and pushes up on her toes, like she does when she dances in those shoes—it’s called dancing pointe. Yeah, I checked it out. Curious is all...Not true—that move is badass.

  When she whispers it again, her cheek pressed against mine, it’s almost a plea.

  “You know damn well you do.” My fucking voice is hoarse, rough...different.

  She grabs my earlobe between her teeth and tugs.

  Chicks get chills and butterflies, not guys. Well, at least not me...until really fucking recently, with her.

  “Tell me.”

  I try to pull it together. I also try to let her know with a look that it’s not okay for her to look that damn good when she’s around assholes like that bitch boy Fletcher, or the whole fucking SU campus, or my damn team.

  “You look too good to be here with all those fuckers.”

  She shocks me when she takes my hands that are all fisted up, because I know I need to control them, and puts them on her hips. She’s taking charge, and not just in words, like she tries to do when she thinks she’s being a badass, but in actions. Fucking plural.

  “Logan, tell me.” She runs her tongue down my neck.

  Game on.

  I am toeing the line, waiting for the snap. If I don’t keep my shit together, hold steady, I am going to get a flag on the play.

  Her eyes, though, they are begging in a way I have never seen. She isn’t London with the little buds and a sassy attitude. She’s like Taylor Hill on the runway at a Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and I am feeling like a fourteen-year-old boy who’s about ready to run from the living room to the bathroom to hide my chub and jerk off to that image.

  But I can’t run. I should. Instead, I tell her the truth.

  “You look sexy.”

  “You, too.”

  When she kisses down my neck, I know I am so fucked.

  When she looks up at me, I feel like a bitch, so I look up and away from her.

  She continues pressing kisses on my skin, hot, wet...fuck.

  “What are you trying to do here, London?”

  She hooks her finger in my mouth and pulls my damn head down so I have to face her. “I’m sick of trying to protect myself against you.”

  And that nearly gets her laid. But...I need to be in charge.

  I suck on her finger, and her eyes turn liquid. I have seen it a hundred times, but it’s never been so fucking hot.

  She pushes herself against me, and I not only see, but feel what she is feeling.

  She needs to know, though...I need her to know...Fuck, what do we need to know?

  Oh, right. I’m the man. And I’m not into fucking her up any more than she has already fucked me up.

  “I was so pissed at you the other night.”

  She puts her fucking hand over my mouth. “You were pissed at yourself.”

  I am ready to let her have it when she takes one of my hands and runs it up her tight little abdomen, stopping just below her tits, ones that need me to either take or tease so she knowns who is in charge of whatever the fuck this is.

  “London...” I warn.

  “I need to figure out a lot of things, Logan,” she interrupts, “and so do you. But it was really, really cold the other night, and I tried every blanket I had to warm me, comfort me, soothe me, and nothing worked. Then I thought, it’s cuddle season.”

  Her voice is so fucking sexy, needy, and her hand is again controlling mine. She pushes it down to her lower back, stopping just north of her ass.

  Tits and ass, right here, begging me to take.

  Control, Links, I scold myself.

  “Jesus L....Fuck.”

  She pushes my shirt aside then untucks the tee-shirt under it before running her hands up my abs. “Then I thought about how warm you are.”

  When she slowly moves her hands up, I have never been more grateful that she is so fucking innocent. Had she headed south, I would have come in my pants, or ripped her begging, little pussy apart.

  “And I thought how you said things are quieter with me.”

  And that does it. I let myself bitch out for one night. I will forever be haunted because of it.

  At the snap...Control it, Links, I tell myself.

  I redirect her play. “Well, right now, they’re harder.”

  She’s a fucking formative opponent. She covers my mouth with one hand while moving the other up a little farther. It feels really damn good to be touched like that, by someone who knows me. I don’t know if I’m okay with her being anything like the others or not.

  “I need you to be my friend, Logan, but I want to be able to do this, too. I don’t want the entire campus watching me or you, and I don’t want you to need anyone else but me.”

  Why in the fuck am I letting her control this?

  She presses her head against my chest, uncovers my mouth, and sighs. “I’ve come up with a plan...with conditions. If you can promise me that you won’t need anyone else while you’re here for the rest of this semester, I can promise you I won’t overthink it and that I won’t need a label or a commitment. I just need to put some limitations and—”

  Fuck this.

  “London.” I make her look at me now. “It goes against every natural, male instinct while fully and painfully erect to be one hundred percent honest, but I’m going to do my best.”

  Her eyes soften, and she looks ready for me to do this. For me to tell her what’s up and give it to her straight.

  “I have no fucking clue what I’m going to be doing when I’m done, and if I were you, I would not offer up something like that to me.”

  Un-fucking-real that those words just came out of my mouth!

  “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  “Love is unconditional,” she tells me.

  Not the fucking L word! No, nope, not gonna be like that.

  “I’ve come up with some conditions that makes this okay,” she continues.

  Lock it down, Links! Fuck...

  “I will promise that I won’t touch another, because I am going to explore every fucking inch of you to an almost indecent precision.”

  She nods, agreeing with me.

  Thank God!

  Then she starts talking. Again with the talking!

  “First condition, you gotta take it slow with me.”

  And back to the physical. Thankfully, I can handle that.

  “Oh, baby, it’s going to be so slow you’re going to throw one of those little fits because you’ll want my cock so bad.” I kiss her neck and inhale a scent that is her—sweet, cherry...mine.

  Her breath hitches, and my need increases.

  “Logan?”

  And...she’s talking again.

  I keep my lips on her neck, not backing down, and answer, “Yeah?”

  “The next conditions are: we don’t fall in love, we are honest with each other, and this doesn’t end badly. I need you in my life.”

  What she just said is everything I needed to hear, so why does my reply, “I promise,” taste a little bit
ter?

  “Logan?”

  She’s frustrating as hell, and I’m trying here, trying to give her what she needs, wants, asked for, but still...the damn talking.

  “Yeah?”

  She grabs my face between her hands and pulls me away from her neck. “Kiss me.”

  Game changer.

  Game. Change. Er.

  I’m at the line, the quarterback is yelling the play, and I’m restraining myself, waiting for the snap.

  Control. Know your opponent. Know your damn self.

  “You’re sure?” I ask.

  “It has to be you.”

  She’s one hundred percent right.

  I grab her face. “You’re damn right it does.”

  She closes her eyes, looking so fucking ready. So ready and needy. So ready and wanting. And now shit’s going off in my head, because this has to be right. It has to for her, and for me, and for the five weeks of hell I have endured away from her. Five fucking weeks that can’t happen again. But I have some conditions of my own.

  “London.”

  She opens her eyes, blinking as if the light hurts them, but it’s not the light. It’s the stall.

  I hold back. Needing, wanting, desiring to do the right fucking thing by her. This has to be perfect for her, which means I need to make sure I remove anything that will trigger me and make me become that dick. I just don’t want to be the one who oddly only she can make me.

  I push my forehead against hers and tell her, “I need you to do something for me first, and this is a deal breaker.”

  She nods.

  “You need to ask yourself a question.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you want your first kiss to end with murder and mayhem?”

  §

  A horn blows as Dad hits the brakes. I open my eyes as I grab the dash.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod, happy to be pulled from the thought of her.

  I hear a phone vibrate and reach into my pocket, only to realize I don’t have my phone. My phone was in my fucking truck. My truck’s in a goddamned building with a bunch of dead fucking bodies.

  “Logan?” Dad begins.

  I look over at Dad as I reach up and turn on the radio, not wanting to talk. “Bad At Love” by Halsey starts.

  I force myself to lean back and let the fucking truth in the words fuck me a little harder than life did tonight.

  I start to close my eyes then decide not to, looking out the window instead.

  When we pull into town, he turns right instead of left.

  I sit up and turn down the radio. “Just wanna go home.”

  “Not tonight, Logan.”

  “I’m not going there,” I snap.

  “Logan,” Tessa says quietly.

  “What?”

  “Logan...” Dad begins, telling me I crossed a fucking line.

  “Right now, I would like to be alone.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Tessa squeezes my shoulder. “But the police are going to be at Maddox and Harper’s in a few hours. It’ll be easier if you’re all together.”

  “You also don’t want the media showing up at the house. Chance and Hope?”

  Fuck, right, I think and then nod.

  “If they sit in the driveway, lights blazing on the house, or bang on the door, it’ll wake them up,” he continues.

  I nod my agreeance.

  “Don’t wanna draw them there,” I say on a sigh, pulling my hat down.

  “You wanna be alone after that, there’s always Doe Camp,” Tessa offers.

  “Sorry, baby, but he doesn’t need to be alone,” Dad tells her.

  “Yeah, I do,” I argue.

  “Let’s get through the next few days, okay? Then you have your apartments back in Syracuse.”

  Dad still has a few properties in the area, ones we have been working on for the past few years in summers and on breaks when we aren’t busy. It’s kind of a pet project.

  I have taken an interest in green energy and, as usual, he figured out a way for me to explore something I am interested in. When I decided a few weeks ago to continue my education, Dad and I discussed me taking it over, living in it, managing it, renting out some of the units that are finished. I agreed. Now I’m not even sure I want to fucking be here. But right now, I’m not going to say shit, because I’m not a total dick. I know he just got Ava back here, and if I tell him I want to jet, it’s going to fuck with him. Last night, today—we have all been fucked with enough.

  When Dad laughs uncomfortably, I look at him.

  “What?”

  “Well, you’re gonna have to get a new vehicle before you go back to ‘Cuse. Your truck is all sorts of fucked up.” Then he laughs out loud, causing Tessa to giggle before covering her mouth to stop it.

  I look at her, and she shakes her head, mumbling, “Sorry.”

  Takes me a minute to respond, but the truth is, I did fuck it up.

  “No need to be sorry. It’s not everyday someone purposely runs into a building.”

  Dad chuckles, but it’s forced.

  I look at him, seeing his jaw is taut.

  I know I am owed a lecture, so fuck it, I open that door. “What?”

  “Dumb fucking move, Logan. You could have been killed. That fucker could have shot you. As your father, I want to tell you what an asshole, fucking stunt that was.”

  I nod once. “I get it.”

  “And as someone who loves London,” Tessa says, bringing my attention to her, ready to tell her I don’t love her, that love is as fucked up as my truck. But then she places a hand over her heart, and I realize she’s talking about herself. “From the bottom of my heart, Logan, thank you for helping her.”

  I nod once then turn away from her. I see Dad give me a sideways glance.

  “When shit calms down, I’d love to know how you knew where she was.”

  “Maddox called,” I tell him, not wanting to revisit it later.

  “How the hell did he know where she was?” he asks.

  I keep my eyes focused forward, not answering him.

  “Maddox and Brody have their ways, Lucas,” Tessa says quietly.

  “That include my son?” he says with some bitterness.

  “Dad,” I warn.

  “Fine.” He sighs.

  I don’t tell him it had nothing to do with Brody, that it was all Maddox and that bracelet she wears—the way he tracks her. The way I always knew where she was...from him.

  When we pull down the drive, passing Dad and Tessa’s place, heading down the dirt road to Maddox and Harper’s, the sun is rising behind it. I glance at the dash and see that it’s almost five in the morning. I have been up for twenty-four fucking hours.

  When I woke up yesterday morning, made reservations to fly home, cleaned up a little at Ava’s place, then later took a cab to JFK to catch a flight home, I had plans, big plans, that included the big fucking butterflies in my damn stomach. I planned on surprising her, then listening to her yell at me for not messaging or calling for the past few weeks, and then kissing her to shut her up. I planned on telling London that she and I would be extending cuddle season until we got sick of each other, hoping like hell we wouldn’t, yet fearing the bullshit first loves entail.

  Instead, the day ended in murder and mayhem.

  Rocker House

  Logan

  I don’t want to see her. I sure as hell shouldn’t want to anyway. But when we walk into the quiet house, where Maddox and Brody are at the large kitchen island, both their noses glued to their computers, no doubt looking at news footage and she’s not there, I wonder where she is.

  In fact, I walk past them to use the bathroom, just so I can look into the family room to see if she is in there. She is. So is Ava, Harper, and Emma.

  “Loggie,” Ava says, beckoning me.

  London’s head is on Emma’s lap and her eyes are opened. The sadness in them fucking hurts my heart and makes it pump harder, faster.

  “Excuse us,” comes
from behind me.

  I turn around and see Jamie and Christy walking toward the living room.

  “Where’s Lisa?” I ask.

  “With her parents. She’ll be here at one when the cops come,” Jamie tells me.

  “Logan,” Ava says again.

  I nod toward the hall. “Gonna use the bathroom.”

  After pissing, I look in the mirror. I’m wrecked and in need of a shower after the gym.

  When I walk out, I again try to skirt past the living room, when Ava calls my name.

  I walk in and kiss her head. “I’m fine. Just take care of that one.” I nod to London who appears to be sleeping, I know she’s not. Walking out of the room I tell them, “I’m gonna run up to Dad’s and shower.”

  “You can shower here,” Ava says, trying to sound sweet, but I know that tone. She’s demanding.

  “I’ll grab something of Maddox’s for you to throw on.” Harper stands. “The guest rooms are set up for the girls. They’ve all decided to share one. You can have the other. The bathroom is—”

  “I’m fine.” I try to sound appreciative.

  “It’s no problem,” Harper says, quickly exiting the room.

  Ava stands up and walks over to me. I still haven’t made it out of the room any farther and I don’t want to go back in. I’m afraid to get any closer to her. I’m not sure if the tightening in my chest is pain or anger.

  Ava hugs me. “You scared me last night.”

  “It’s payback,” I tell her, and she looks up in shock. “Don’t look at me like that. You know how fucked up we’ve been over you.”

  Her bottom lip pouts out a bit. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay.” She pauses then whispers, “Right?”

  I nod and hug her back. “Yeah, Ava, no matter what hell we Links walk through, we always come out looking ahead for the next...” I stop because I want to say shitshow, hurt, disappointment, blow, but I can’t, not to Ava.

  “Next?” she asks as London and the girls walk past us. She doesn’t even look at me.

  “Adventure, Ava. Life is full of adventures.” I try to sound like it’s a joke, but it’s not. “You should go home; get some sleep. My niece and nephew are gonna need their mom when they wake up.”