And these people were Madoc’s best friends. They were people that didn’t make me cringe or despise being around them.
After I’d toweled off, I put my clothes back on and poured myself a beer from the keg, while Jared and Tate joined Madoc and some blonde over at the fire pit.
The sun had set and while it wasn’t chilly, there was a nice breeze coming through the trees. The party was still loud and still busy, but people were spreading out. Some went into the house to watch movies or play video games, while others filtered out onto the grounds. I was sure there were several bedrooms already occupied, as well.
“So how does Madoc have a sister?” A deep, velvety voice came up to my side.
I tipped my head up from the tap and did a double-take, my mouth falling open.
Holy crap.
The guy—a young one, too—was entirely too beautiful for words. Who the hell . . .
He had a smooth face, but a strong, angular jaw and high cheekbones. His eyebrows were straight and at a slant, making his striking blue eyes stand out even more against his tanned skin. Or maybe that was his natural skin tone. He wore his dark brown hair long, but it was pulled back into a ponytail.
He had no tattoos, and he didn’t need them, either. With his height and toned build, why cover any of that up? Looking like that shouldn’t be legal. Hell, looking at him like I was probably wasn’t legal yet, either. I hardened my eyes, hoping my glasses obscured my gawking.
“Madoc doesn’t have a sister.” I pursed my lips. “Who are you?”
“Jaxon Trent,” he said lightly. “And don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you. I think I’d have to get in line, what with you showing the whole world how you look in lingerie.” He smiled with a twinkle in his eye. “I like your spunk. Just wanted to say hi.”
“Trent? As in Jared Trent?” I took a sip of my beer and peered up at him.
“Yeah, he’s my brother.”
He looked so proud saying it I didn’t have the heart to be sarcastic.
“I like your piercings.” He motioned to my ears. “Are you the one that inspired Madoc’s?”
“Madoc’s what?” We started walking toward the fire pit, my flip-flops sloshing through puddles on the now drenched pool deck.
“Piercing,” he answered, leaning in to whisper. “Rumor is that he has one somewhere, but we can’t see it. Tate thinks it’s a Prince Albert. I’m going with a Jacob’s Ladder. Madoc’s either all in or all out.”
Madoc with a piercing? And that ass**le gave me so much shit about mine. I let out a bitter laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t know.”
“Yeah, it’s driving us all nuts,” he joked as we sat down in the circle surrounding the fire.
The pit, along with the Jacuzzi, helped make the outdoor area usable all year long, even during the bitter-cold Midwest winters. It was a large copper bowl stretching about four feet in diameter, and it burned real wood. Not only did it create substantial flames, but it also generated a lot of heat.
Since the evening wasn’t nearly cold enough, there was only a small amount of wood burning. The soft glow kept the area dim except for our eyes that were brightened by the dance of the flames across our faces.
Jared sat on the ground, leaning against a rock, with Tate between his legs and her back pulled up to his chest. Madoc was in a similar position; however, he sat on a chair across the fire from me with a girl on the ground between his legs.
Figures.
He had his hand around her neck, but not in a threatening way. His fingers lightly caressed her while his thumb moved in circles. She stared into the flames, closing her eyes every so often, clearly enjoying the attention.
I watched his fingers, mesmerized by how she was putty in his hands. He was soft and slow, gentle and attentive. Possessive. Pressure built low in my belly, and I clenched my thighs, feeling the long-forgotten burn.
And then I looked up. My chest heaved.
His eyes were on me. Pinning me with the absence of everything they usually held. The amusement was gone. The mischief had disappeared. The game was silent.
The mask was off.
In This Moment’s “Whore” poured out of the speakers, and I stared into his hard eyes that were hot and urgent on my skin. My tongue moved around my closed mouth, trying to quench the dryness in my throat.
He touched her with his hands but held me with his eyes, and every time he stroked her jaw or ran his finger across her cheek, I could feel the tingle on my skin.
I closed my eyes, then opened them and blinked hard to break the contact.
“So do you still skate?”
I blinked again, registering thunder in the distance. “What did you say?” I asked, looking over at Jax. Just breathe, Fallon.
“The skateboard tattoo on the inside of your wrist.” He gestured. “Is that your half-pipe with the severe incline in the basement?”
My half-pipe? He’d seen it?
“It’s still there?” I asked, incredulous. I couldn’t believe it.
He nodded. “Yeah, next to the piano.”
I dropped my eyes immediately.
That was strange. With all of my other belongings tossed out with the trash, why would they keep a huge half-pipe that took up space? A lot of space. I was about to ask Jax if there were any skateboards around it, hoping against hope that maybe Madoc or one of his friends salvaged those to use for themselves, but he had started up a conversation with some guy across the fire pit.
Tate brushed my arm, and I looked to my right. “So what’s with you and Madoc?” She looked like she was trying to keep her voice low, but Jared’s eyes flashed to mine when he heard her question. “Seems like there’s bad blood between you two,” she added.
I quickly glanced at Jared again, wondering if Madoc ever told him about us, but he wasn’t paying attention.
“We just never hit it off.” I shrugged to Tate, keeping my voice light. “With the way these two behaved around you the last time I was in town,” I joked, gesturing to Jared and Madoc, “I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from.”
She grinned and twisted her head to the side, looking up at her boyfriend. “Yeah, I guess I do.” And then she fixed me with a stern expression. “But I also know there’s two sides to every story. You two should talk.”
“We can barely stand to be in the same room together.”
Madoc was still across the fire, eyes shifting between Tate and me, and there was no mistaking it. He was pissed. Maybe he wondered what we were talking about, or maybe he just didn’t want me here.