“Much better now that you’re here,” he says, passing a hand through his blond hair. He’s wearing it differently. It used to be down to his ears. Now, the sides are short, and he’s kept the top long and slicked sideways. “Listen, Beautiful. I’m hoping maybe we can catch up while I’m in town. Can I get you something to drink? A Shirley Temple, maybe, or…”
“I already told you I’m taking care of Dessy tonight.” Jack looms over Tyler. Looking down the slope of his nose, he gestures for my ex to move out of his way, brushing past his shoulder and laying two shots, two beers, and a piling heap of glorious poutine on the table.
“Right, you did,” Tyler barks out a laugh. “But if any of those drinks are for Aulie, I’m sorry to tell you, man, you’ve wasted your money. She doesn’t touch that kind of stuff.”
Oh, for the love of Peter Noone, why is this guy standing here after five years and pretending he still knows me?
Yeah, before I was twenty-one and it was illegal to drink, I was too timid to try anything more than the sips of beer I’d have with my cousins when they visited from Canada. But now, it’s not illegal, and occasionally, I let myself drink—even if I regret it with a flare of pain the next day.
Jack drapes an arm over my shoulders. He turns the brim of his hat around to the back before he leans in close, and I feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, sending shivers down my spine once more. “Who is this asshole, and why is he on the receiving end of your awkward face?”
“This is Tyler, and I don’t have an awkward face. What the heck is that?”
“You do, but we can revisit that point later. Permission to act like an even bigger asshole than usual to get him to leave?”
“Okay, but don’t be too mean.”
Tyler clears his throat. Even after five years he probably still hates not being the center of attention.
Jack’s arm tightens around me. He nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “Kitten, you haven’t introduced me to your little friend,” he says softly enough that it sounds like it should be between us but loud enough that Tyler, a man very proud of his six-foot status, hears.
“Oh, right! Where are my manners?” I press a kiss to his cheek. His extra-long stubble falls like rough sandpaper against my skin. A rogue thought wonders what other pieces of him would feel like on my lips and I shut it down immediately. “Jack, this is one of my high school classmates, Tyler.”
“Oh, come on, babe. Classmates? We were more than that.” Tyler winks.
I ignore Tyler being, well, Tyler. “And Tyler, this is Jack Parker, we—he—” My tongue stumbles over how to introduce Jack. I doubt he’d appreciate me labeling us more than friends since word about whom he’s dating travels fast, even this far north in New Hampshire.
Sure, we’re playing tonight. But Jack getting cozy with a girl isn’t exactly newsworthy. It’s only when he labels it that the press explodes.
“Jack is a good friend of mine,” I say, finally settling on the truth.
“Friend—that makes more sense.” Tyler chuckles. “For a second, the crew almost thought you were dating.” He hitches his thumb over at a group of old classmates watching us curiously. “But I told them there’s no way our class princess is involved withtheJack Parker.”
In my senior year, my classmates decided I was too sweet to bear the title of queen, so they voted me the courtprincessat prom. They even made me a special sash as a joke. Though Tyler was still voted prom king.
While I was thankful that so many people seemed to like me well enough to vote for me, the joke stung. Princesses need saving, Queens rule. It was a reminder of my tendency to be the damsel and victim in my life rather than the heroine.
If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure I’ve overcome that bad habit.
“Believe me, Trevor—” Jack drawls.
“Tyler.”
“Right, whatever.” He dismisses this correction with a wave, like he’s bored to death of this guy already. “I hate when she uses the friend label. If it were up to me, I’d lock this shit down and never let her go. I’d be a fool not to.” Jack’s sapphire gaze turns to me, resting heavily on my face and regarding me like I’m something worth revering. The arm wrapped around me, pulls me in tighter, and his thumb strokes my cheek. “You know, I’d do anything for you, right, kitten?” His eyes move to my mouth, as if I hold some kind of spell over him. “And I mean—” his nose traces the line of my jaw. “Any” —a soft kiss punctuates the break in the word— “thing.”
My lips part involuntarily. “That is a very tempting offer,” I say breathlessly. My chin tilts a fraction, resting too close to his own to be sensible for much longer. The need to kiss him consumes me as the ache in my chest grows almost unbearable. I’m momentarily distracted by the tremor I swear I feel in his fingers, still caressing my cheek. His eyes come back to mine, searching and slightly unfocused for a beat, before he blinks and takes a breath.
“It was nice to meet you, Taylor,” Jack says in a final dismissal, not bothering to look in Tyler’s direction. A devious, crooked grin quirks his lips, and I can’t believe I ever doubted he could slide into character. The man’s a natural. Between that and the darn baseball cap, he looks like sin incarnate, and I’m currently too weak not to give into temptation.
“Tyler.” The vague image of a man over my shoulder corrects.
“Sure,” Jack murmurs, his hand tenderly cradling my face. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. C’mere.”
My body reacts without hesitation, pressing into him and resting my hand on his chest—I
Bang.The glittering crack of a tray full of glasses crashing to the cement tiles below reluctantly separates me from whatever trance Jack had me under.
Tyler stands in a halted retreat with beer cascading down the front of his shirt. A tray rests in Andrew’s hand. Beer funnels down the sides and a glass lays shattered on the pavement. “Shit, man. I’m so sorry, I uh—” He runs his hands through his hair, glancing at the wreckage. “I—fuck.” He slumps away, rejoining his friends.
