Page 20 of Intrepid

Stepping back toward the wall, I narrowed my eyes on him, taking in the casual tone of his voice and coolness of his words. “You sound like you get where he’s coming from.”

“All men have one thing in common. We’re natural-born hunters. And we love a good chase.”

“And women are what? Helpless prey?” Perhaps living with an artist feminist lesbian had gotten to me, but I didn’t like his implications. As if he were excusing Dane’s behaviors. Of course, I’d give him the benefit of not knowing the screwed up lengths my ex had gone to just to get me back, the crazy shit that probably should’ve landed him a restraining order, if not for his family name bailing him out every time.

“Some are.” He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and traced his thumb down along my cheek to my jawbone, and, with a feather-light touch, across my throat. “But you’re different from most women.”

“How so?”

He stared down at my lips again, as if he might just kiss me. “You make a man question his purpose.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I echoed his words a second time.

A hint of a smile played on his lips.

I couldn’t get an accurate read on Ty. He seemed to run hot to cold to hot, with little transition in between. Coming on strong one minute, then retreating the next. And with every encounter, I found myself breaking my own rules around him. Really, what made him any different from Dane, the way he’d followed me to class and seemed insistent to see me again? And again. Although, to his credit, he knew to back off, and outside of Mama D’s, I hadn’t run into him much, like down a dark alley, or anything.

The strange push and pull with him left me confused, though. “I should go. I don’t want to get stranded again.”

“Yeah, you should.”

Push.

The moment he leaned forward, my instincts begged me to turn away from him, but I didn’t. I allowed him to press his lips to my cheek and slide them back to where he kissed the shell of my ear.

Pull.

“I’ll see you around, angel.” Fingers curled around my waist, he kicked me forward a step with his possessive grip, as if he might kiss me for real that time. His jaw clenched while his grasp of me softened, and he let go.

I’d never felt such a strange clash of emotions at once. Part of me wanted to fall into the illusion that we might just click together. The other, perhaps logical, half of my brain told me the attraction I felt toward him was solely based on his looks, and he’d surely break my heart. It was the same half that nagged me to question why someone so exciting and fearless would take such an interest in me—unless I happened to be some source of amusement for him.

He strode off into the crowd, leaving me standing there, pondering what might’ve happened if I’d stayed with him, instead. If I’d allowed him to take me back to his place, on the back of his bike, and let him fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight.

I knew the answer to that all too well.

I’d never see him again after that.

And I definitely wanted to see him again.

I made my way back down the staircase, catching sight of Bea and Simone scanning over the crowd, as though looking for me. They waved me over, and I told myself not to look for Ty, because I knew damned well if I saw him grinding on another woman, I’d surely be pissed about it.

Jealousy was a shameless bitch.

5

Jameson

Nine years ago …

The insufferable August heat beating through the window swelled my cheek, as I sat in the passenger seat of my dad’s Ford pickup, snacking on a small bag of McDonald’s fries. Bad enough school that started in a week, but we’d been hit by some hellacious wave of misery that truly sucked for those of us whose air conditioning happened to be on the fritz. My dad’s had bugged out a month ago, and he just didn’t have time to fix it. Only a faint whisper of cool air teased the layer of sweat beaded across my skin, but I didn’t want to complain.

“Sorry I didn’t grab a better dinner, Champ. I’m sure Jo will have something good cooked.”

My dad’s ex-girlfriend, JoAnne, was probably the closest I’d ever get to a real mom. She cooked, cleaned, and was happy to do just about anything for my dad, which was the one fatal flaw of their relationship. She wasn’t the stubborn, selfish woman who’d birthed me, and therefore would never live up to the bullshit pedestal my dad had placed her on. Even if he’d never admit that he still loved the woman who’d abandoned us.

“S’okay. I’m not that hungry, anyway.”

At fourteen, I was old enough to stay home alone, but the occasional gunshots we’d sometimes hear in our neighborhood kept him from taking any chances on the nights he worked late.