Troublemaker (Goode Boys Book 1)

by Sean Ashcroft

  Troublemaker

  Goode Boys #1

  Sean Ashcroft

  Copyright © 2020 by Sean Ashcroft

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Bonus Scene

  A Letter From Sean

  1

  Carter

  “Absolutely not,” Kieran said, passing me a cup of coffee across the kitchen counter. “I am not going to your sister’s wedding as your date.”

  My shoulders slumped, the faintest pang of rejection making my stomach twinge. It was a stupid feeling—it wasn’t as if I was romantically interested in my best friend—but it still stung a little.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Kieran said, tapping the side of his cheerfully-striped mug. “Your puppy eyes are worse than—oh. Oh.”

  Kieran’s bright green eyes—I never wanted to call them emerald, because it sounded like such a cliché, but I didn’t know another name for the color—lit up like they always did when he’d come up with an idea so terrible it was genius.

  At least, he thought it was genius.

  He was right sometimes.

  “Please tell me you’ve just realized you desperately need to go to Canada and you don’t mind dropping in on a wedding on the way through?”

  “No,” Kieran said. “Better. I’ve just solved your problem.”

  He grinned at me over the rim of his mug, pausing to take a sip. Keeping me in suspense.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “Aiden,” Kieran said.

  I raised an eyebrow. How was his younger brother the solution to my problem?

  “He’ll go with you. Guaranteed.”

  That… didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

  “Guaranteed?”

  Kieran snorted. “C’mon man. He had a crush on you for years. He’d do anything for you.”

  My memory of Aiden was a little different. I remembered him as a moody troublemaker who got into fights a lot. I remembered Kieran worrying that his school record might suffer because of his brother’s behavior.

  There was only two years between them, but they couldn’t have been more different. Kieran was captain of the football team, a straight-A student, and easily the most popular guy in our year.

  Aiden was nothing like his older brother. Spent most of his time hanging around the art studio, the library, or smoking under the bleachers with the kind of kids who wore black trench coats in August.

  Not that there was necessarily anything wrong with that—aside from the smoking, I hated that he did that—but what the hell would he want with a quiet nerd like me?

  I wasn’t his type.

  I wasn’t even gay.

  “I’m not gay,” I said aloud.

  The look Kieran gave me confirmed that I sounded as stupid as I thought I did.

  “You just asked me to pretend to be your date. You were planning on letting your family think you were gay.”

  I sighed, sipping my coffee. This wedding had been the cause of a permanent knot in the pit of my stomach for months. With the news that my ex-girlfriend wasn’t just coming, but was one of my sister’s bridesmaids, I was considering faking my own death and moving to Mexico instead of going.

  Pretending to be gay wasn’t worse than that, and it was the best solution I’d come up with.

  At least, it’d been a good solution when it was Kieran playing along, because I knew him. I was comfortable with him.

  “You’re my friend,” I said, weakly, knowing it wasn’t much of an excuse.

  “Aiden’s your friend. I mean, you’ve known him as long as you’ve known me. I’m not kidding about that crush. Anytime you didn’t come home with me after school, I got interrogated about where you were. And if you were okay. It was kinda sweet, actually.”

  “Did he ever actually say he had a crush on me?” I asked.

  “Does anyone ever actually say they have a crush on anyone? Like, especially at fifteen?”

  That was a good point.

  “Listen, you can either go see your batshit family and your ex alone, or you can take a tattoo artist who wears a lot of eyeliner. The least your type in the world. They’ll stop trying to set you up with Mandi again if they think you’ve gone insane.”

  “Like the rest of them, you mean?”

  “Your dad’s okay,” Kieran said. “But what do you care? You never talk to them anyway.”

  Kieran was right, on every point he made. My family was nuts, I didn’t want to date Mandi ever again, and Aiden was the least my type person in the world.

  My dad was okay, too. I couldn’t blame him for my mom torturing him for twenty years before she divorced him for not putting up with it anymore.

  “Look, you wanted a date, I’m handing you one on a silver platter. Take it or leave it.” Kieran shrugged.

  The more I thought about walking Aiden into the wedding, the more the idea appealed. I wondered if he still had that oversized leather jacket he wore everywhere.

  Mom would hate him. Mandi would hate him.

  Kieran was right. He was perfect.

  “Should you be volunteering your brother without asking him first?” I asked, still fighting to shake the last of my nerves over this. It was a stupid thing to do, and I knew it, but I couldn’t see any other way to come out of this without promising to give things another shot with Mandi.

  I didn’t want to end up like my dad.

  “I’m not, I’m telling you he’ll agree. Besides, he could use a vacation and he loves snow. You said the wedding was at that ridiculous hotel in Quebec?”

  “It is, yeah. Does he have a passport?”

  Stop making excuses.

  “Oh yeah. He gets invited to international conventions and stuff all the time. Aiden’s famous, man. He’s out of your league now.” Kieran grinned at me.

  He was proud of his younger brother. Both of them, I thought. Devin, the baby, was a world-class daredevil. Everyone and their sister followed him on Instagram.

  I didn’t, but only because I’d never had an account and couldn’t figure out what part of my life would possibly be photo-worthy on a regular basis. The occasional pretty sunset or really nice latte heart probably wasn’t enough.

  “Fine,” I agreed, which did absolutely nothing to help my nerves. Kieran had already said no—it stung less because he was my friend and I knew it wasn’t because he didn’t like me, but…

  I hadn’t seen or spoken to Aiden in years. This would be like asking a stranger on a date.

  Except the date was a week-long trip to a wedding in Canada where I wanted him to at least pretend he liked me.

  “Finish your coffee and get off your as
s,” Kieran nudged. “He closes up shop at two on Sundays.”

  I glanced up at the kitchen clock behind Kieran to see that it was twenty-to, and drained the last of my coffee in two gulps. Now or never. I had to leave first thing tomorrow.

  “I’ll text you the address,” Kieran promised as I shrugged on my coat, pulling his phone out. “Tell him I love him.”

  “Will do,” I promised, heading for the door.

  If I was going to do something this stupid, I might as well do it quickly.

  2

  Aiden

  The bell over the shop door tinkled as someone stepped inside. Ten minutes left until I was about to close up.

  I hoped they were here either to book an appointment or get me to change out their jewelry, because I was too tired for anything else and I wasn’t convinced I’d get the appointment written down without a mistake, either.

  Screwing the cap onto the bottle of ink I’d just finished mixing, I peeled my gloves off as I walked into the front of the shop to find someone in a long black wool coat with a head of short, glossy black hair complete with touchable curls.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, dragging their attention away from the little trophy display I kept on the wall. All my awards made newbies feel safer.

  My regular clients just laughed when I got a new one. Oh, you went to a show on the weekend? How many trophies did you bring back?

  My heart leapt into my mouth as they turned around.

  Carter.

  So much hotter than I remembered him in high school, pretty grey eyes looking me up and down, lips pursed.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  “Lemme guess,” I said, mouth way more confident than my brain. “Dragon on your butt?”

  Carter blinked at me.

  “What… what about me makes you think I’d want that?” he asked, a cute little crease between his brows.

  That crush I’d had on him in high school? Clearly it hadn’t gone away. More like gone into hibernation.

  I shrugged. “I’d get to tattoo your butt,” I said. “Could be that I’m projecting.”

  Great move, Goode, my brain interjected, finally catching up with my mouth.

  Better late than never, I supposed.

  “Do you particularly want… no, you know what, don’t answer that,” Carter said, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. “This was a stupid idea.”

  He turned to leave, and I couldn’t imagine anything I wanted less than that.

  “It wasn’t,” I rushed to put myself between him and the door as non-threateningly as possible. Carter was bigger than me height-wise, but I’d grown up to be a strong guy and I knew I looked it. Being careful not to intimidate people was something I thought about all the time. Especially since this little place had become a haven for people who might otherwise have been nervous about getting a tattoo.

  “Whatever it was, it’s not stupid. Lemme flip the sign and we can go into my office and talk?”

  Carter paused, biting his lip and looking between me and the door I was almost-but-not-quite blocking.

  I didn’t know what was going on in his head, but I could hear the gears turning from here.

  “Okay,” he said, soft as ever, bitten-red lip sticking out the tiniest bit, swollen from the pressure.

  Maybe he wanted to go make out on my couch.

  … probably not, but a guy could dream about his number-one fantasy from the age of fifteen to nineteen, right?

  I flipped the sign, guts doing a goddamn tango the whole time as I took him through to the cozy little office I kept for nervous first-timers and clients who needed extra privacy.

  Well, I called it an office, but it was more of a lounge. A sofa and a coffee table, carefully arranged so even the biggest wheelchair commercially available would fit comfortably, too. Devin had cursed me in and out of hell over arranging this room, but he’d gotten a free tattoo out of it, so he didn’t get to complain.

  “This is…” Carter looked around, eyes travelling from the dark-stained coffee table to the leather couch to the IKEA lamp in the corner.

  The couch had been a thrift store find that Morgan—my best friend—had helped me reupholster in vegan leather. The coffee table, Kieran had helped me sand, stain, and polish after we’d found it in the garage, a relic from before our time.

  There was heart in this room, and I liked to think it made people more at ease.

  It was definitely helping me.

  “Not what I expected,” Carter concluded. “Nice,” he added.

  I grinned at him like I was sixteen years old again and he was complimenting the brownies I’d made at school.

  “Sit,” I said, gesturing at the couch. “I can tell you’re nervous and I want you to know it’s fine to be that way and I’m not gonna judge you for it.”

  Carter perched on the edge of the couch, fingers clasped together, resting on his knees.

  “I’m not here for a tattoo, although I’m flattered you think I’m that brave.”

  “Piercing?” I offered. He would have suited having his ears done, a little glint of silver in each one to match his eyes.

  Carter hissed through his teeth. “Ouch. No, I, uh… this really is stupid, but I guess I’m here now.”

  I sat down next to him on the couch, inner teenager freaking out at the proximity.

  “My sister’s getting married on Saturday,” Carter said to his clasped hands, looking anywhere but at me.

  “Oh, uh. Congrats to her?”

  Why was he telling me this?

  Carter’s cute pink tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Yeah, sure, Damien seems like a good guy. He’s Canadian. The wedding is in Canada.”

  “And you… want a French lesson?” I asked. Where the hell was this going?

  That finally made Carter look at me.

  “You speak French?”

  Shit, did he want a French lesson?

  Could I resist the temptation to make a joke about kissing him?

  “Enough to get myself in trouble,” I admitted. “You didn’t take French in high school?”

  Carter shook his head. “No. No, uh. That’s… cool. Might come in handy.”

  “It does,” I said. “We’re practically walking distance to Canada from here.”

  “Slow Falls is not walking distance to Canada,” Carter said.

  “Depends on how much time you’ve got.” I shrugged. Upstate New York was, in my opinion, basically walking distance to Canada. “I guess you have basically none, with your job and all.”

  Last I’d heard of Carter, he was working in the city. Which meant he’d stopped dropping by the house on the weekends. And then Kieran had moved into his own place, and I’d never seen him again.

  Until today.

  “Yeah, umm.” Carter ran a hand through those loose, glossy, touchable curls. Which was unfair, because I wanted to run a hand through them.

  Even his voice was different now, rumbling and even, still as quiet as ever, like he couldn’t have shouted even if he wanted to.

  “Look, I’ll just come out with it and let you say no and close up shop in peace,” he said in a rush. “I asked Kieran to come to the wedding with me and he said no, but he also said you might go instead. With me. To my sister’s wedding.”

  “In Canada,” I finished for him, trying not to laugh at the way he was rambling. Too cute.

  “Yeah.” Carter rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up the shell of his ears. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

  “So you just wanna take a friend, or…?”

  “A date,” Carter clarified. “I know, I know, okay? But the ex-girlfriend my mom wants me to marry is going to be there, and if I show up free and single I’m gonna walk away with a wedding date set. You’ve met my mother.”

  I had. Overbearing was putting it mildly.

  “A date,” I repeated, since my brain was struggling with the idea that Carter wanted to take me to a wedding. As his date.

  Fifteen-year-
old Aiden was doing a happy dance in my heart.

  “Not, I mean…” Carter scratched his neck again. “Just… stand next to me? Tell people we’re dating if they ask? Maybe imply you do actually like me?”

  “I do like you,” I said. Carter clearly needed to hear that, and what was the point in lying to him?

  I wasn’t telling him I’d had a hundred wet dreams about him, just that being around him wasn’t a hardship.

  “Kieran said.” Carter licked his lips, and I wondered exactly what Kieran had said.

  He’d given me no end of hell for having a crush on Carter when we were kids. As far as I knew, he hadn’t said anything back then—probably so it wouldn’t scare Carter away from coming over—but now…?

  “I’ll do it,” I said without pausing to think any more carefully. I’d have to move some clients around and make my excuses, but how often was I going to get this chance?

  Besides, all the travel I’d done in the last three or four years had been for work. This wasn’t exactly for fun, but it beat working. No matter how much I loved my job. Everyone needed a break sometimes.

  “You will?” Carter raised an eyebrow, like he hadn’t expected me to agree. “It’s a whole week. We have to leave early tomorrow.”

  “I’ll reschedule everyone this afternoon,” I promised.

  The look on Carter’s face made it all worth it. Relief, awe, gratitude, maybe even…

  The faintest spark of attraction?

  No. No, he wasn’t into me. I knew better than to think that.

  “So… you’re gay? Or bi, I guess, if we’re trying to save you from your ex-girlfriend.”

  Carter shook his head. “No, uh. No, not… really. I just figure thinking that might be the only thing that makes my mother back off. Is that… horrible?”