by J. D. Light
"Oh shit," I said, wiping my eyes and massaging my cheeks. "You're right. Maybe I won't be able to handle your crazy."
"You'll handle it," he grumbled, pushing those sexy lips out in a pout. "And you'll love it."
I fought the aftershocks, my stomach quivering with occasional giggles. "Are you going to call your brother?"
He scrunched his nose and licked his teeth before batting his eyelashes at me and once again leaning closer to the screen. "Have I ever told you how sexy I find your beard?"
As always when he paid me a compliment, butterflies burst in my stomach and chest, but I wrestled them back, knowing he didn't actually mean it. The truth was, there had never been anyone who'd complimented me as much as Lincoln Reed, and even knowing he was just saying it to be nice, or to get me to do something––usually involving tricking, misinforming, or just informing his brother––I found myself wishing it was for other reasons.
"Only when you are trying to talk me into being the buffer between you and your brother," I grumbled, hoping I was hiding my disappointment behind my smirk,
Lincoln gave me a crooked smile, propping his head in his hand and bouncing his eyebrows up and down. "You make it sound so dirty."
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. That was the thing about this man. He'd always been able to make me smile or laugh with very little effort. "Just call him from the road," I said, sighing. "Like when you're nearly here. He can't make you turn around then."
"He can't make me anyway," he said haughtily. "He might be bigger than me, but this little tiger is fast and mean."
I laughed, still finding the shifter thing a bit surreal. It was easy to forget that the Reeds could shift into tigers from time to time. Probably, because they rarely did. I'd seen Decker shift once, which had been a bit awkward for me, since apparently, they had to be naked to do it, or their clothes would rip.
Lincoln had padded up to me one night in tiger form when I'd slipped out into the dark backyard to sit and drink in the calm after Leboney had been in bed and my father had been mostly passed out in front of the television. He never shifted the whole time, but I'd somehow known who he was. We sat there in the dark until almost eleven at night, and then his mom had called him inside, waving sweetly at me while her son pranced happily away as a tiger.
"Well, you're both stronger and faster than me," I said, tapping the table in front of me. "So, do me a favor and tell him you begged to come live with me."
He froze, glaring at the screen. "You've got to be fucking kidding! He told you not to offer me a place to stay?"
Oops! I cringed. "No?"
"Wow," Lincoln said dryly, blinking. "You should not go into politics."
"Not my calling?" I asked, hoping to derail his anger at his brother. At least for a little while.
"You should probably stick to more honest work."
"Like owning a bar?"
"Exactly," he said perkily, giving me a big smile.
I'd worried when I first got back in contact with Lincoln, if he'd be disappointed in me that I'd bought a bar with my alcoholic father's life insurance. But the moment the words had left my mouth, Lincoln had smiled excitedly and congratulated me on being a business owner.
At first, I'd been surprised my dad even had life insurance, and even more surprised that I'd been his beneficiary. Apparently, it was something he'd had through work. He probably hadn't known he had it either.
I hadn't intended to stay when I first came back all those years ago. And I'd been nervous about running into Decker or Lincoln, not sure what the latter had told the former about that night and what he hadn't.
Apparently, enough so that Decker had known I'd needed to go. And though Decker and I had basically started up where we left off with a few changes that came with maturity and responsibility, I'd never told him everything about that night.
It was a night that always terrified me to dwell on. What if my dad had been able to get ahold of Lincoln? Or what if I'd died and Leboney had to step into my place when my father was in one of his drunken rages?
Thoughts of that night and the possible ways it could have gone were always just right there below the surface.
When I'd first started working at a bar taking drinks to tables, I'd been underage… and completely disgusted with myself. Alcohol had completely ruined my life, and it could have ruined Leboney's, but the tips had been too good to pass up when you had a teenage girl to raise on your own.
I'd had to wait until I was twenty-one to officially get my bartending license, but I was already a pro by that point.
Moving back to Crossville hadn't even been on my radar when I'd gotten the news through a distant aunt that my father had driven off a steep embankment one night, and wasn't wearing a seatbelt. The details were pretty gruesome, but my remorse for the man had been low. He'd been drinking and driving again. I was just glad he didn't kill someone else.
I shook my head, needing to clear those dark thoughts before I managed to put myself in another week long depression. The last time, Decker had been gone and Lincoln had threatened to send his mother over to check on me if I didn't answer my phone.
It was amazing how just hearing his slightly pissed off voice had calmed so much in me. All it had taken was an hour on video chat with Lincoln once I heeded his threat, to feel like I was worth a shit in this world.
"So, when are you leaving?" I asked, feeling butterflies take off from their resting places in my stomach. "I'll start getting your room ready."
Lincoln Reed was going to staying under the same roof as me. Shit!
"Which room do I get?" he asked, his head tilted down, but his eyes on me under his brows.
Fuck, that look is sexy as hell. I cleared my throat. "My old one."
"Hmm, that's kind of sexy." He bit his lip, a slightly heated look passing over his face before it disappeared. "I'll be sure to keep my curtains closed though. I don't want the creep that bought our old house peeking in through my window like… a creep."
He blinked slightly, but I'd seen his eyes widen as he said that.
I narrowed mine in thought, remembering well just how easy it had been for me to look into his room when the conditions were right. Our houses had been mirror images of each other with his room and mine lining up perfectly.
I'd tried countless times to avoid that window, having seen Lincoln walking around in his underwear more times than I could count and far too concerned with the thought of my father catching me ogling the mostly naked neighbor boy not to close the curtain and walk away.
That's not to say I hadn't snuck a peek a few times. I was a teenage boy who was madly in love with my best friend's brother.
Had that window been a two way portal?
"Did you used to watch me through the window, Linc?" I asked, trying not to laugh when he cringed slightly and then blinked at me innocently.
"What window?" He tilted his head to the side and wrinkled his forehead in question.
I chuckled at the obvious attempt at feigning ignorance. "Apparently, neither one of us are cut out for politics." When he just rolled his eyes, looking away, I laughed again. "Well?"
"Okay, yes!" he said, letting his head drop back to the chair. "Sometimes I watched you through your window." He lifted his head, cringing as he paused. "While hiding in the dark, so you wouldn't know."
Holy Shit! I knew my mouth was hanging open as Lincoln cringed, trying to peek at me through mostly closed eyes. I blinked several times, trying to act cool about the whole thing, but I was totally not cool.
Had Lincoln Reed just admitted to what I thought he'd admitted to?
I cleared my throat, sticking my tongue in my cheek to keep from laughing at the mortified look on his face. "I meant, you never answered me about when you're heading this way."
"Oh," he said, and I couldn't hold back the snort of laughter any longer. "I'm glad you find my awkward, pathetic teen years so amusing." His tone was dry, but I could see the quivering
in his lips that told me he was fighting laughter himself. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. Still okay with me staying with you?"
Still laughing, I shrugged. "You being a stalker is the least of my worries."
"Stalker?" he huffed indignantly, looking away with his nose in the air.
"Yes, stalker. You probably even had binoculars." I'd meant it as a joke, but he cringed, bringing his hand up to bite on the top of his thumb nail. I froze, biting my lip. "You had binoculars?!"
"I'd really like to end this conversation now." He looked so petulant, not meeting my eyes.
Fucking adorable.
"I bet you do."
"Fuck you," he grumbled, but there was a self-deprecating smile on his face when he glanced sideways at me. "I'll be pulling into your driveway about four o'clock tomorrow evening. If the door's locked, I'll know you decided having a serial killer in your house was a bad idea, and I'll find a nice hotel where the natives are restless, tend to be nocturnal and spread disease."
I laughed, letting my head fall back on my shoulders. Damn, I loved him. I didn't know how I was ever going to survive having him under the same roof as me without touching him, but not that I had been promised the possibility, I wasn't going to give it up for anything.
Smiling softly, even though he couldn't see it, I watched his handsome face, liking how it darkened when he was embarrassed. "The key will be under the mat. Try not to lick all my stuff if you can keep from it."
When he let out a growl and shut his laptop, I laughed my ass off.
Chapter Two
I groaned when I pulled on to my old street, seeing first my old house where my brother and I had grown up and then Crawford's house sitting side by side, looking as different as they did alike. I'd been doing that all day, remembering all the times I'd lodged my foot in my mouth while talking to Crawford on the phone the day before.
I'd always complimented Crawford. He was a gorgeous man, but I could tell he didn't always see himself that way. I'd somehow made it through three years of text messages and video chats without saying something too stupid that might give away the massive crush… I still had on him, but my nervousness at being back in Crossville and seeing him for the first time in person, in five years, had my mouth hoovering up shoe leather, laces and toenails like it had a magnet that collected foot funk.
I parked in front of Crawford's house, not surprised to see his truck in the driveway. It was a few minutes to four and he didn't have to be at the bar until almost eight. I guess I didn't scare him off with my awkward admission to being a peeping Tom.
I groaned again, opening the door to my car and sliding out. He'd joked and laughed about the whole thing, but I couldn't help but be embarrassed by it still. Probably, because I wasn't over it. Probably, because, given the chance, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Probably, because my little crush had become quite complicated over the years, venturing into unrequited love territory.
I glanced over at the house next door, smiling to myself. It looked completely different now, but I had a lot of good memories in that house. Most of them involved perching in my window and watching Crawford either through his window or while he was outside doing something. I had a great view of his backyard from my little happy spot.
My family and I were actually part of a streak that had a tiny little community right outside of Crossville, but my parents had chosen to live just inside city limits because of work. When my parents had to move on for a while, they'd offered the house to my brother and I, but it was before Crawford moved back and neither of us really had any desire to stay there.
I thought it would have been a different answer from both of us if it had been a year later. My brother had moved right smack in the middle of the streak community, thinking he might be able to help with all the craziness that was going on there, but I thought he might regret that with the way things were going with the inner circle.
I bet he wished, like I did, that we'd taken Mom and Dad up on their offer.
The new owners had painted my old house in darker colors, looking almost gloomy next to Crawford's brighter one. It was actually kind of funny, the irony of the big, tattooed, pierced man with the pretty, light blue and white house and the little old couple who'd bought ours from my mom and dad painting theirs blood red with black trim.
Snickering, I walked up the sidewalk, something in the air reaching out and grabbing my tiger's attention. Stopping, I spun slowly, sniffing the air and trying to figure out where it was coming from, but the sound of the front door opening behind me had me spinning, a giant smile on my face to see Crawford Russell in the flesh for the first time in five years.
Shit! He was more gorgeous in person than he had been over video chat, or the countless pictures I'd drooled over on all his social media pages. He had more tattoos on his arms and I could see some peeking up over the collar of his white T-shirt. His beard was big and full and looked like he'd been stroking it so much, it was afraid to even think about sticking out.
He crossed his arms, making his shoulders flair slightly as he smirked down at me from his spot at the top of the steps and my heart swelled with love.
This man is going to be the death of me.
Like an excited middle school girl who hadn't seen her friend in months, I squealed and took off running, flying through the air as soon as I hit the bottom step and slammed into his body, squeezing him fiercely.
He grunted, squeezing me back and chuckling. "You trying to kill me so you can use my body for naughty things, Linc?"
"Damn it!" I said, pulling back and smacking his arm, laughing as I looked up into his pretty blue eyes. "I knew I wasn't going to be able to live tha––" I stopped suddenly, my eyes widening as the scent of Crawford Russell finally hit me.
I leaned in, taking an even deeper breath. I barely choked back a moan as the once familiar scent hit me, making me feel at home… and horny as fuck. Crawford Russell was my mate.
"Uh, Linc? Are you sniffing me?" he asked, his voice deep and his tone confused.
Well, that was kind of hard to deny, considering I was currently running my nose along his throat. At least I hadn't started growling yet.
I swallowed, leaning back to look at him again. "Holy shit," I whispered, blinking into his handsome face while my entire brain played musical chairs in my skull, turning in a complete circle and missing its damn seat.
"Linc?" he asked, sounding hesitant. "Are you okay?"
A laugh burst from my mouth and I actually shot a bit of spittle into his face, making us both freeze.
"Oh my God," I said on a shocked laugh, reaching up to wipe it off of his cheek.
I fucking spat on him! I'd just found out the love of my life was my mate and I fucking spat on him.
"I'm so sorry. That was gross and rude and weird." All things I apparently was in the crazy reality where my mate had literally been the boy next door this whole time.
Taking one last deep breath, I pulled back, glad I'd at least been aware enough not to hump him like a fucking dog right there on his front porch.
Shit! How the hell was I supposed to tell him he was my mate? We'd been friends forever and he'd given me absolutely zero reasons to believe he might be interested in me in that way.
He turned and I followed him inside, distracted for a moment from my thoughts when I saw his ass. I'd seen his face and most of his front either on video chat or in pictures, but it had been five long years since I was able to enjoy his ass. And it hadn't been near that full when he was eighteen.
I knew he thought time had already been hard on him. He complained a lot about all the weight he'd gained and all different shit diets he'd been on, hoping to lose weight. But, from where I stood, there was absolutely nothing for him to worry about.
He still had the musculature he'd had in high school. Thick shoulders, gorgeous, wide back. He had a bit more padding around the middle, but I'd be damned if it didn't make him even sexier. But his ass. Fuck, his ass was gorgeous.
&n
bsp; I watched it until I got caught watching, when he turned around abruptly and I didn't have time to jerk my eyes up fast enough.
I didn't know why the man was surprised. Surely, I wasn't the only person in the world who'd admired that ass. My eyes narrowed and I growled slightly, before cutting it off and giving him my brightest smile.
Hmm, I guess I'm going to be possessive. Didn't really thing I was like that.
He gave me a confused look, his pierced brow all scrunched up, and I just continued to smile like an idiot as I walked over to the couch and plopped down, wishing I knew what was going on in that head of his, because he still wasn't moving.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and shook his head, while I tried to find something in the room to look at that wouldn't get me caught ogling.
How was this mate thing supposed to work with my brother's best friend, who I was pretty sure saw me as more than a year younger than him and who I'd never seen out on a date with anyone in my life, so I had no idea if he was even gay.
I bit my lip, tapping my foot. I dug out my phone and opened my texts, intent on texting my brother and asking, but changed my mind at the last second when I realized just how many questions would come my way before I got an actual answer.
"Are you okay?" Crawford asked, easing into one of the chairs at the end of the coffee table, watching me warily. "You look nervous or something. Are you having second thoughts about staying here?"
"No!" I barked at him, rolling my eyes at myself immediately. I sighed, forcing my shoulders to relax. "I'll be fine."
"Is your brother driving you crazy?"
I groaned, sinking further into the couch. "He's so irrational. He told me family is supposed to annoy the fuck out of you. That's why so many people need therapy. I swear if he could have me tried and hung for treason right now, he would."
"He told me I'm no longer going to be the godfather to his children."
"Hey, he told me I was going to be the godfather!"
"How about this," he said, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, his massive shoulders bunching. I tried not to groan as I followed the artwork up his thickly muscled arms. "If something happens to him, you and I will co-parent his imaginary children."