“I know you do,” he speaks over my lie, making my heart pound in my chest. “I also know you try to hide it. But you’re not very good at it. In fact, you’re really fucking annoying with your little secret glances when you think no one is looking. But I am. I’mlooking,and every time you stare at me with stars in your eyes, I want to punch something. Every time you go allbreathless around me like you’re going to goddamn faint just because I’m close; like I’m going to one day look at you and realize you’re the girl for me and the longer I don’t, the sadder you become. I can’t stand it. I can’t fucking stand the way you look at me.
“I couldn’tfucking standthat that’s how you looked back there. Devastated and wrecked and fucking ruined, because I got down on one knee for someone else.” He pauses to move his jaw back and forth. Then, “And normally, I’d let you suffer. But you’re my little sister’s best friend and you could practically be my sister, so?—”
“I’m not your sister,” I say.
Or rather, I snap. My voice is much louder than I thought it was going to be. Maybe it’s the force of all the secrets I’ve been keeping from him, from everyone. Maybe it’s the shame of it all.
Whatever it is, my loud voice pisses him off even more and his voice dips so low that it sends shivers down my spine. “No, you’re not. You’re fucking nothing. Which is why I need you to get over it. Whatever it is. Crush, obsession, sick fascination you have with me. Bury it and get a life. Get a fucking boyfriend and forget I exist. Because next time I catch you looking heartbroken because of me, I’ll let you walk on this broken glass and bleed all over it.”
Prologue III
Six Months Ago
It was my idea to meet at a bar.
It was also my idea that the bar be The Horny Bard. The most infamous hangout for all the soccer players in Bardstown. For my date.
Yes, I’m on a date.
The guy—Miles—thinks I’m twenty-four instead of twenty-one. And he himself is twenty-seven. I found him on a dating app. He has blond hair and pretty brown eyes, and I think his smile is great. He loves soccer like everyone else in this town, but I decided to forgive him for his mistake.
But back to why I chose this bar. Not only to show Miles that I’m older than my age, but also because ofhim.
I haven’t seen him since his impromptu engagement at the charity event. Mostly because he’s been on the road for the season. But I knew he’d be here tonight. The season is still on, and he’s got his championship game day after tomorrow. It’s a home game and he’s visiting Bardstown for a couple of days, like he always does when he’s got some time on his hands. I heardCallie say he was going to let off some steam before the big game and go see his friends at the bar. She didn’t have to specify which bar though; I already knew. So when Miles told me to choose where to meet up, I picked this place.
To show him.
That I’ve moved on. That I’ve gotten a fucking life and forgotten he exists. I realize this whole show and tell may suggest that I’m not as into this date as I should be, but it’s not true. I do like Miles. I do want this date to be successful. But I also want to rub it inhisface. I was minding my own business that night, dealing with my own heartbreak, when he found me.Hewas the one who followed me.Hewas the one who said all those assholish things to me. There was no need for him to be so cruel, but he was anyway. So this is payback.
The place is packed, as it usually is every night of the week, not just the weekend. The lighting is not the best so it’s hard to say if he’s here yet or not, but when Miles pulls me to the makeshift dance floor, I go with him. I dance with Miles likehe’swatching, and halfway through the song, when Miles pulls me even closer, I don’t resist. I’m not especially happy with the lack of distance. Even though I tell myself I should be; I like him and we’re on a date so it’s not a big deal. But ifhe’sreally watching, I should put on a good show. So I spin around in Miles’s arms, moving and twisting my hips, when I finally seehim.
He’s at the edge of the dance floor with his eyes locked on me. I come to a halt and for a few seconds all I can do is stare at him, at his tall figure. Tall and dark and immobile. Everyone else around us is moving and swaying, laughing, but we’re standing still. Staring at each other, connected. But then I start to move. I press myself even closer to Miles as I resume dancing, twisting my hips, writhing, and I notice his jaw clench. I notice his fingers fist and his eyes narrow, a dark current running through his body.
I can’t deny the satisfaction that goes through me at this. I can’t deny I’m not trying to make him jealous. To show him he doesn’t matter to me. Yes, I’m lying, but he doesn’t need to know that. All he needs to know is I took his advice, and he can go fuck himself.
But then he starts to move toward us and my heart skips a beat. No, my heart practically stops as I watch him prowl, cutting through the dancing crowd, undeterred. It doesn’t matter that people are bumping into him, crashing and colliding. He’s unaffected, all broad chest and steely thighs. I don’t know what his intention is, but it doesn’t look good. In fact, his eyes are flashing and there’s a certain intent in his demeanor that screams danger. I should be reacting to it, I know. I should be doing something instead of simply staring into his eyes, but I can’t.
I’m all frozen and foggy, and that’s probably why it takes me a few seconds to realize he’s here and what he’s done. Pushed Miles away from me. He’s put his large hand on my date’s shoulder and given him a shove, breaking our embrace. All aggressively and possessively. Like I’m a toy he doesn’t want anyone else to play with. Then moving his eyes over to Miles, he growls, “Beat it.”
Confusion is clear on Miles’s face, and I try to go to him when he addresses me. “Take one step toward him and I’ll fucking break his bones.”
I snap my eyes over to him and instantly know he means it. I know it down to my core, and it serves as a wake-up call. It makes me realize I’ve lost my mind. What was I thinking playing games with him? What was Ithinkinginvolving someone else in my games? What if Miles gets hurt, what then?
God, I’m sostupid. I’ve been so angry at him all these months, so freaking furious, that as soon as I heard he was back in town, I reacted without thinking things through. And lookwhat I did. I back away then, from him. And notice his eyes going narrow in displeasure. But I don’t care. I’m getting out of here. I’m getting away from him.
I turn away and start rushing out, cutting through the crowd and making for the hallway in the back where the exit is. I push the metal door open and come out into the dark parking lot. The area is surrounded by a chain link fence and there’s a metal gate in the far back. I start walking toward it when I hear the door open again, followed by thudding footsteps.
My heart jumps into my throat, and before I can think it through or even confirm if it’s really him behind me—but I know, Iknowit is—I start running. My breaths are coming hard and fast and my heels are clacking on the asphalt. Chills are racing down my spine that only grow whenhestarts to run as well. I hear his thudding footsteps, giving chase, and oh God, I think I’m going to pass out from fear. I’m going to pass out from thethrill.
From this confusing set of flutters in my belly and goosebumps on my skin.
A second later, he grabs me. And when I say that, Ireallymean it. He puts his arms—bothof them—around my waist and picks me up off the ground. My back crashes against his wildly breathing chest and the air gets knocked out of my lungs. I shriek, short and loud, but it doesn’t deter him. He keeps me pinned to himself,carriesme a few steps to the right before putting me down. He spins me around and pushes me up against a vehicle.
“Get…” I try with panting breaths, my sweaty hands slipping on the metal I’m stuck to. “Get away from me.”
He leans over me instead, doing exactly the opposite, his broad shoulders cutting off the light in the parking lot. He goes ahead and puts his hands on the roof of the truck he has meagainst too, caging me in as he growls, “I will when you start acting like you mean it.”
“I do mean it. I?—”
