Defy You: A Brother's Best Friend/Age Gap Romance (Rebel Ink Book 3)

by Tracy Lorraine

  “Sure, whatever you’re having.” I watch as he grabs a glass and pours me a generous amount of his Jack. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the hearts and flowers, must-have-a-happily-ever-after kind of girl. Don’t tell me that you’re that kind of guy.” He’s already tried to tell me that he’s not. Although I don’t believe it for a second, I can’t deny that I’m not curious about his reasons for saying so—or more specifically, who turned him off the idea.

  “Fuck no.”

  “And why is that, exactly? I thought a guy of your age would be all about settling down and filling a woman with his seed.”

  “I can get on board with the last part of that sentence, just not with one woman.”

  I study him as he focuses his attention back on the TV. He chews on his cheek as if he wants to say more but isn’t allowing himself.

  “Who was she?”

  He gives me a double take before my words must register. “Who was who?”

  “The woman who broke your heart.” I try again.

  “Who says there was a woman?”

  “Your body language. Your refusal to answer the question.”

  “Whatever. The film’s starting again.”

  I study him for a while longer as I sip my drink. He knows I’m looking at him, but at no point does he turn back to me.

  “It’s a shame, if you ask me. You’re a catch.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asks with a smirk. “Is that why you’re putting so much effort into catching me?”

  A laugh falls from my lips. “Me? No. I just want a bit of fun, and I have it on good authority that you’re an expert in that department.”

  His lips part, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, we silently watch the film, the chemistry left over from the strip club crackling between us.

  When the credits start to roll, I decide I’ve tortured him enough for one day and excuse myself to bed.

  “If you’re cold in the night, you know where I am,” I say with a wink before I disappear from his sight.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he calls behind me.

  I have no idea what the time is when I finally pry my eyes open the next morning, but I know it’s late. The sun is already high in the sky, the strength of it warming my room nicely.

  Rolling over, I find my phone on the bedside table and turn it on. I’d switched it off before my shift last night and never got around to powering it back up again after the drama that ensued with Spike.

  The second it gets a signal, the messages start coming through.

  “Fuuuuck,” I groan to myself as message after message from Jodie flashes up on the screen.

  I meant to tell her that I’d left, but I kind of forgot.

  With a wince, I open the final message from her that demands to know if I’m still alive or not. Guilt eats at me that she’d have been awake all night worrying about me while I was here in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in, getting well over my required eight hours.

  My fingers fly over the keyboard as I reply to tell her that I’m fine and that I’ll ring her once I’ve had coffee.

  Pushing from the bed when I hear movement out in the living area, I pull my hair out of my face and secure it in a messy bun. After making sure my tits haven’t escaped my vest during the night, I pull my door open.

  The scent of breakfast wafts down to me and my stomach rumbles.

  Spike can cook?

  I nod to myself as I head for the kitchen. I could really get used to living here.

  “This smells amazing,” I say, stepping up to him and running my hand down his back where he stands at the cooker. His entire body tenses at my contact, and I smile.

  “I’m glad you think so. Hungry?”

  I press myself against his side and look up at him. “Sure am, the bacon will be perfect for after what I have in mind.”

  “Kas,” he groans, unhooking my arm from around his waist and stepping away from me to grab two plates with buttered bread on them.

  Resting back against the counter, I watch as he moves effortlessly around the kitchen in his shorts and white shirt. I can see the darkening of the tattoos that are inked across his back and shoulder blades, not unlike mine. The muscles ripple making me wish I was still pressed up against him.

  “Sauce?” he asks, holding out the bottle of ketchup for me.

  Stepping up to him, I take it and flip the lid before aiming it at the bread.

  I squeeze, but nothing happens. I put a little more force into it, and the sauce shoots out the end, covering the bread, plate and counter.

  “They always blow their load too fast,” I mutter, reaching for a cloth while Spike explodes with laughter beside me. “What are you laughing at?” I ask when I turn back to him. “I bet you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

  He puts his knife down from cutting his sandwich and turns to me. “Firstly, I’m concerned about the number you’re talking about here.”

  “Do you hear me asking about the number of notches on your bedpost?” I ask, my eyebrow almost hitting my hairline.

  “Noted. Secondly.” He leans in, his breath tickling down my neck, making my nipples pebble against the thin fabric of my vest. “I can go all night long, baby girl.”

  I can’t stop the shudder that runs the length of my spine at his words. I do, however, manage to swallow down the groan that threatens to rumble up my throat.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it, old man. Thanks for this.” I swipe my plate from the counter, and with as much sass and swing to my hips as possible, I take it over to his small table.

  After clearing his throat behind me, he follows, bringing his plate and two mugs of coffee, and drops down on the other chair.

  “I really needed this,” I mumble around a mouthful of delicious salty, smoked bacon.

  As I take another bite, the sauce squirts out onto my lip. Spike’s eyes lock onto it the second I move the sandwich.

  “Whoops.” I make a show of wiping it off with my fingertip and then sucking it into my mouth.

  His eyes follow my fingers before they darken.

  “Fuck,” he barks, pushing the chair out behind him and walking away from me. “I’m going out.”

  “I hope it wasn’t something I said.” I can’t help the amusement that fills my voice. He just makes all of this too easy.

  Looking back over his shoulder, he narrows his eyes at me. “I can send you back to the squat as fast as I took you away, you know.”

  “Yeah, but you won’t,” I say confidently.

  He leaves the room, and feeling like I should probably pull my weight, I set about cleaning up.

  He’s only gone a few minutes, and when he returns, his hair is styled—although still a total mess—and he’s wearing fresh clothes.

  “Hot date?”

  “Something like that.” He swipes his keys from the bowl and pockets them and his phone. “Do me a favour, yeah?”

  “Depends what it is.”

  “Don’t fucking leave this flat.”

  “Or what?” I sass.

  “Tiny,” he sighs, “just do as you’re fucking told. I don’t want to have to rescue you twice in two days.”

  “Huh, I thought that was Titch.”

  A wide grin covers my face, but all he does is shake his head.

  “Just stay put. I’ll only be a few hours.”

  I salute him as he leaves, but he doesn’t see it.

  After finishing up in the kitchen, I fall down onto my bed and grab my phone.

  Jodie answers on the first ring.

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  “I’m not explaining over the phone. Coffee?”

  “Sure, where?”

  “The usual, thirty minutes.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  “Jo?”

  “Yeah. Can you… uh… make sure no one follows you?”

  “Why would they… shit. Is Jet still on your case?”

  “Yeah, fucker decided I needed to pay up early. I
’ll explain all when I see you.”

  I smile like a naughty little kid as I pull the front door open and make my way down the stairs.

  I almost expect my phone to start ringing and for him to demand I go straight back up. I’ve no idea how he’d know, but I’m sure he’d find a way if he could.

  I glance at Louisa’s closed door. That would probably be how he finds out.

  I hot foot it out of the building and down the street a little, just in case she chooses that exact moment to appear.

  I jump in the Uber I’d ordered before leaving the flat and sit back with a sigh.

  I shouldn’t have allowed Spike to take me away like he did yesterday. I was too blown away by it all and then the drama that was my shift after to think of much else. But as the car heads toward our usual meeting place on the other side of the city, I remember the promise Jodie and I made each other not so long ago.

  That when we left that place, we’d do it together.

  My nails dig into the skin of my thigh as I realise just how much I’ve fucked up here.

  “Shit,” I bark, startling the driver. “Sorry,” I mutter, feeling bad for giving him a heart attack.

  “No worries, sweetheart. You need to get something off your chest?” he asks.

  Great, I’ve got one of those drivers who thinks he should have been a therapist.

  “No, no. I’m good, thanks.”

  I look out the window as the city passes by and think about my life. I’m unemployed and basically being babysat by my brother’s mate.

  I blow out a slow breath as I think about Dakota telling me in not so many words that there was no longer a position for me at her club. She also made sure to explain how she’d speak to the other owners she knew to ensure I couldn’t go running straight to those.

  I understand why they both did it. I don’t want to be stripping any more than Spike wants me to be, but I have a debt that’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

  Finally, the car pulling to a stop drags me from my thoughts, and when I focus once again, I find Jodie standing by the entrance to our favourite waffle shop, waiting for me.

  She smiles when she spots me, but my heart drops when I notice it doesn’t meet her eyes.

  I don’t know why I’m surprised. She has every right to be pissed with me right now.

  “Ah, so you really are still alive and in one piece.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jo.”

  “I need caffeine and sugar before we hit the heavy stuff.”

  “Let’s do it then.”

  We order our usual and find a seat at the back of the relatively small café so that I can at least attempt to hide.

  No sooner has my arse hit the chair than I’ve scooped up my first bit of waffle covered in vanilla ice cream and a lashing of salted caramel sauce. The bacon sandwich I had not so long ago is well forgotten as I savour the sweetness.

  “I’m waiting,” Jodie asks once she’s swallowed her first mouthful.

  “Ugh so… one of Zach’s friends was at the club on Saturday night. He dragged me from the stage. It was mortifying. Anyway, after a dressing down from him, he walked me out so that I could head home, only guess who was waiting for me?”

  “Jet?” she guesses correctly.

  “Yup. He decided he wanted to take payment in another form.” Jodie gasps in horror. “He didn’t get very far, because Zach’s mates beat the shit out of him.”

  “Fuck.” The fear on her face matches what I feel beneath the surface. I might appear not to be fazed by this, but that would be a big fat lie.

  I know that Jet is waiting for me and that he’ll strike when I least expect it. I’ve no doubt both Spike and Titch are on his hit list too, after what they did. Jet’s not one to take that kind of thing lying down.

  “Yep.”

  “So then what?”

  “Spike took me back to his place. Then, because he’s an interfering arsehole, he followed me home the next morning and point-blank refused to let me stay at the house. He made me pack my stuff and took me back to his place.”

  “Sounds like a white knight story if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “Funny you should say that, because he has tried locking me up in his tower.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “I climbed out the window so I could do my shift.” Her brow rises, sensing that there’s more to the story, which of course there is.

  I relay the rest of the night, much to her amusement.

  “You fucked him?”

  “No,” I sulk. “He’s too focused on being a good friend to Zach. He’s getting close to breaking though, I can feel it.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had a good ol’ feel.” I can’t help but burst out laughing as she waggles her eyebrows at me.

  “Here’s hoping,” I say, lifting my mug to cheers with hers.

  “This is probably a stupid question but… is he hot?”

  “Fucking smoking,” I admit with a smile.

  “Zach will kill you, you know that?”

  “Nah, he’ll kill Spike for ever touching me. That’s if Jet doesn’t get to us first, of course.”

  The colour drains from Jodie’s face at the mention of him again.

  “You’re not going to out-run him, you’re aware of that, right?”

  “Yep. I just need to figure out a way to pay him off.”

  “Talk to Zach,” she says, like she hasn’t already suggested it a million times since this all came about.

  “Not happening. I sort my own problems.”

  “That’s just it though, isn’t it? It’s not yours, it was your mum’s. Please, just let someone help you before this goes too far.”

  I shake off her concerns, but I can’t deny that they only fuel the fear within me. I know this isn’t going to end well, yet I’m still not willing to take the easy way out.

  We move on to safer topics, like her college course and the teacher she’s lusting after, and by the time we leave, I’m feeling much more relaxed. Well, until I stop on the path to find my Uber because a shiver of awareness runs down my spine.

  I shake it off as I say goodbye to Jodie, but the feeling never leaves.

  10

  Spike

  My first destination as it is every Monday is to my grandad.

  I climb off my bike, lock the helmet into the top box, and make my way toward where I know he’ll be waiting for me.

  A few friendly faces smile at me and say hello as I pass them. They might all live here, but I’m somewhat of a regular. Since my grandad moved into this place, it’s like my family quadrupled overnight. I’m not complaining, seeing as most of my life he’s been my only relative.

  I duck into the summer room and look directly at his seat that overlooks the pond and water feature in the stunning gardens beyond.

  My heart drops into my feet when I find it empty. My heart begins to race that something is wrong with him and he hasn’t let anyone know.

  This place isn’t a nursing home, but there are always carers on hand should any of the residents need some assistance. If something was up with him, then they know to call me straight away.

  “Ah, is it Monday already?” Maureen asks from her spot at the table where she’s working on what looks like the world’s most complicated puzzle. “Don’t look so worried, sweetie. He’s only visiting the bathroom.”

  Every muscle in my body relaxes at her words.

  “Fancy giving an old lady a hand?”

  “You’re not old, Maureen,” I say, pulling out the chair beside her. “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”

  “As much as I appreciate that, sweetie,” she coos, tapping the back of my hand with her cool one, “you’re a rubbish liar, and I can see right through you.”

  I chuckle at her as a shadow falls over us.

  “How many times have I got to tell you to stop chatting up my ladies, son?”

  “Gramps,” I say, pushing the chair out and pulling him into my arms.

  “Don�
��t take away my eye candy, Phillip,” Maureen complains behind me.

  “I thought you’d popped your clogs, old man.” As I say the final two words, all I hear is Kas’ voice in my head.

  Shaking the thoughts away, I follow my grandad over to his seat and pull up my own.

  “So, what’s new in the tattoo world then?”

  I chat away about the clients I’ve had this week, along with the designs I’ve done. He listens to every word like I’m telling him the world’s secrets. He’s always been the same. Even when I was a kid and talked more shit than I can imagine, he always listened to every word, savoured every memory with me.

  “When are you going to book me an appointment?” he asks, just like he has since the day I expressed my interest in my chosen career.

  “Not gonna happen, old man,” I joke.

  “Why not? You know I want to die with your ink on my skin.” My stomach twists at his mention of death. I hate that it bothers me so much. He’s still relatively young but the idea of being left all alone in the world has always scared me. I guess it’s just how it is when you’re brought up by grandparents—you’ve got to accept that it might happen sooner than you’d like.

  I think of Kas and how she lost the only parent she’d ever known long before her time, and my heart aches for her. She’s too young to have been forced to deal with that. It’s one thing having a parent die, but to overdose?

  I blow out a breath, a move that my gramps doesn’t miss.

  “What’s up, son? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  “It’s nothing,” I argue.

  “Waaaaait,” he says, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face. “Is it a girl?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but apparently I’m too slow, because my slight pause gives him all the answer he needs.

  “Oh, it is.” He rubs his hands together in delight while I silently groan. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so long.” The delight on his face makes my heart drop. He wants nothing more than for me to find a nice young lady to settle down with—his words, not mine.

  “Yeah, it’s to do with a girl, but,” I say in a rush before he gets carried away with himself, “it’s not like you’re thinking.”