Forgiving Lies

3

Kash

“DO YOU KNOW what we’re being pulled in for?”

I glanced over at Mason like he’d missed the massive pink elephant in the room. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe if you hadn’t punched Juarez in the face . . .” I trailed off.

“That little piece of shit spit on me with his meth saliva! You expect me to let that go?”

“Not like it was the first time you’ve been spit on.”

“He’d just taken a hit not even ten minutes before!”

“Mason.” I shook my head as I held my badge up so we could get into the locked doors. “The dude was so strung out he couldn’t stay standing and he was in cuffs.” As soon as we were in the door, I smiled at the ladies behind the plate-glass windows and continued back to Chief’s office. “Not to mention the guy is so thin he gives a new meaning to the phrase skin and bones and you look like you’re on steroids.”

“Whatever, for what we put up with from him and his crew for the last six months, he deserved it.”

“And that’s probably why we’re here. Swear to God, Mase. If you get me put behind a desk for this shit, I’ll hate you for life.”

He snorted nonchalantly, but I could tell the thought of being a desk bitch instead of on the streets terrified him. “You can’t hate me for more than a day. Who would feed you?”

“Oh, I’d still make you feed me. I’d just hate you.” We got to Chief’s door and we both stopped to collect ourselves. I looked over at my best friend and work partner and clapped his shoulder. “Ready to see what your latest fuckup has gotten us?”

“Fuck you, Kash,” he sneered, but he was fighting a smile.

Mason and I had met while going through the police academy, and for some genius—or more likely stupid—reason they’d partnered us not long after we’d both gotten hired on at Tampa Bay Police Department. We had barely gotten out of our time with our different field-training officers and been put on patrol before we were partnered up and moved to a whole new scene of TBPD: the undercover narcotics division. And I promise you, it’s not as exciting as it sounds or looks on TV.

With my half sleeves of tattoos, and with Mason looking like a ’roided-out freak, Chief thought we’d be perfect for it. And though we liked to complain about it, I could say for both of us that we loved what we did. Not that what we did was something either of our families were okay with, but it was our job, and one that a lot of cops didn’t want. In the last three and a half years of being undercover, we’d successfully taken down three different major suppliers in the Tampa Bay area. Mason and I didn’t break down doors or run in with the SWAT team to do drug busts. We were the ones who had to be manhandled and cuffed and put in the back of cars until everyone involved in that drug ring was hauled away. Only then were we let out and able to lead the rest of the officers to where all the goods and money were. That way our cover was never blown.

Until now.

We’d never gotten in with a crew faster than we did with Juarez’s, and we’d also never taken one down as fast. But as soon as our guys burst in, we realized why. We’d never fooled Juarez for a second and his boys had guns drawn on Mason and me the minute the door flew open. Thank God they’d all just taken hits and weren’t coherent enough to get shots off before they were taken down, which led to Juarez spitting in Mason’s face and Mason breaking his nose in return. And that leads us to now.

Mason knocked, and after a quick murmur from the other side of the door, he let us in. Once we were seated, I knew our days infiltrating drug dealers were over. The look on Chief’s face said it all.

“He was cuffed, Gates.” Chief spoke low to Mason, but Mason knew better than to reply yet. “Man was cuffed, and you punched him in the face. You have ruined not only your undercover career but Ryan’s as well.” He gestured toward me. “Wanna tell me your side of the story, gentlemen?”

“Cover was already blown. They knew; they all had guns pointed at our heads the minute the narcotics team busted down the door,” Mason answered, and I nodded my agreement. My heart still raced when I thought about that moment.

Our jobs meant living with scum and dealing with drugs, lots of money, and idiots who had no idea how to handle weapons on a daily basis. But yesterday morning had been the first time in our three different takedowns that I was scared for my life. Our guys knew not to ever hurt Mason or myself, no matter what was going down. And we knew how to stay out of the way and help them out if a bust resulted in gunfire. But to have five guns drawn on you by meth heads was another thing all in itself.

“So, because your cover was blown, you felt it appropriate to punch him. He’s lawyered up and is going for police brutality, Gates.”

Mason snorted. “Please.” But he quickly snapped his mouth shut when he saw Chief’s look.

The room stayed tense as we all stared at each other in silence for what felt like hours. Finally, Chief sighed and handed two files to each of us. “Look, we’ll take care of the police-brutality thing, but I don’t think it should come as a shock to you that you are out of the undercover narcotics division.”

Do. Not. Say. Desk.

“But since Juarez already had his suspicions of the two of you, he had guys lined up in case he was taken down. And we just caught wind of it this morning. There’s a hit out on both of you.”

“What the fuck?” I whispered mostly to myself as I looked through the top file. There were new credit cards, a driver’s license . . . everything I would need to start over. Except the name didn’t say Logan Kash Ryan. And the state sure as shit wasn’t Florida. In its place was Logan Kash Hendricks. Texas. I glanced over at Mason, who was now scrambling to see what was in his file, before looking at Chief. “Chief, for the last three and a half years we’ve lived—almost the entire time—with thugs, dealers, and druggies. When don’t we have someone wanting us dead?”

“This is a serious hit. What we’re doing isn’t exactly witness protection. But it’s getting you away from here until things calm down, and before you say anything”—he held his hand up and I snapped my mouth shut—“you’ll still be working. Just not with narcotics. You’ll still be undercover.” He grabbed both files that had been under the ones with our new identities and opened them. “Do you remember the college girl who went missing and was found tortured to death in that basement about two years ago?”

I skimmed quickly over the file and newspaper clippings. We’d been neck-deep in another operation at the time and hadn’t been paying much attention to the news. But that had been huge. She’d been the third girl in what they were now calling the Carnation Murders. All the girls had looked alike and each had been found tortured, murdered, and with one white-and-pink carnation lying on her chest. The last girl had been right in our backyard.

“A few of our detectives have found some things other than physical appearance, type of torture, and the flower that are starting to link all of them together. Whether we’re about to go on a wild-goose chase or not, we don’t know. But they’ve been studying this trail for a few months now and we just got the okay to send in some of our guys.”

“All right. And . . . ?”

“And we’re sending the two of you.”

Glancing down at my new ID, I peeked at Mason’s file and saw that he had a Texas driver’s license with the last name Hendricks as well. “I’m sorry. Let me see if I’m understanding all this. You’re getting us away from a hit that may or may not be out for us, we have Texas IDs all of a sudden, and you’re sending us somewhere. You’re sending us to cowboy country?!”

“You always were a quick one, Ryan,” Chief said, deadpan. “Or should I say, Hendricks.”

“If you’ve followed this trail to Texas then it’s out of our jurisdiction. Let Texas law enforcement deal with it.”

“Austin detectives have already been sent all of the information we’ve collected on this James Camden guy, and they’re expecting you on Monday.”

“Monday?!”

Chief continued like we hadn’t spoken. “Mind you, there’s never been an actual suspect that has had any credibility, and when the victims’ family and friends were shown a picture of James Camden, no one had ever seen him before. And no one can actually track Camden down, so it’s possible his identity has been stolen.”

Just looking at the balding now-forty-year-old put a bad taste in my mouth. His mug shot from a petty theft six years ago looked like a photo from a story you’d see on the news about a child molester. I studied his face and every description of him as Mason and Chief argued over the fact that we wouldn’t be able to tell our families where we were going but would be able to keep some forms of contact with them. This was the weirdest form of protection I’d ever heard of. And I blamed Mason for all of it.

“We have jobs set up for you as bartenders at the two places his paper trail has led to in Austin, but other than that we have nothing on him. You have bank accounts set up with money you’ll need to set up an apartment we’ve already rented out for you.”

“We aren’t—” Mason said, but was quickly cut off.

“I know you don’t bartend, and so do the owners. They have been informed of the situation, but the staff hasn’t. Just try to blend in and find Camden. This is a college town, so we have to assume he’s looking for his next victim. You will check in with the Austin police department same as you would do here for undercover assignments; you will be on their payroll for now. You are now cousins, but the rest of the cover story will be up to the two of you to decide upon. As I said before, you cannot tell your family where you are moving to, only that you are going away on another undercover assignment. Now, get out of my office and get your asses to Texas.”

As soon as we were out in the hall, I turned my glare on Mason. “Texas? Really? Your mess-up has us moving to Texas?”

“You can’t put this shit on me, Kash. Juarez had us pegged and listed already; this has nothing to do with me punching him.”

“You know my mom is going to flip and try to figure out where we’re going.”

“Your mom?” he asked incredulously. “I just told my parents and little sister I’d be there for her graduation this weekend and now I won’t. And I won’t be able to give them a reason. You know my ma, she’ll go freakin’ ballistic.”

True. She would. As we made our way out of the building, I came up with our immediate plans and shared them when we hit the parking lot. “We each get one small bag. Essentials only. Leave the apartment looking like it always does. That way if the guys Juarez hired come looking for us, it’ll look like we’re still around. I’m having dinner with my parents, then we’ll leave at ten tonight. When we get home, I’ll go in first to make sure it’s all right. Then I’m gonna go put gas in my truck and pick up my bike from storage before I head to my parents’. I’ll let you know when I leave so you can go in after; that way we don’t look suspicious. Try to crash on your parents’ couch for a few hours at least before dinner; I want to drive as much as possible tonight.” Holding up the new Texas license plates that had been in my file, I sighed as I looked at my Florida plates. “I guess we’ll change these out sometime tomorrow. Keep them hidden for now.”

Mason stopped outside the door of his truck and looked at the ground, playing with his keys. “You telling them you’re going on assignment?”

Do I ever? “Nope.”

He nodded. “All right. Call you at ten when I get in my truck. I’ll have mine filled up too.”

“Later.” I climbed in my truck and placed the files and plates on the passenger seat. Taking a deep breath, I told myself it was just another assignment. Just like the last three. Clearing my mind, I started preparing myself to once again say good-bye to my parents without their realizing what I was doing.

I HOPPED OUT of my truck, and Mason did the same. “You got the keys and everything?” he asked as he stretched.

“Yep. I’m guessing it’s . . . this way? Twenty-one oh four. First floor, Chief? Really? That’s just asking to be broken into.”

Mason followed me to the second door on the left and we both stayed silent as I put my ear up against the door. No noise. Mason inspected the handle, said it looked clean and was still locked. We’d already discussed trying not to scare any of our neighbors, so we both had our guns in their holsters on our hips under our shirts. But with the hit and the fact that this apartment had been set up for us, it felt unnatural to go in unprepared.

With a look confirming that we were both ready, he unlocked and opened the door and I stepped in with Mason directly behind me. As soon as we were in, he shut the door silently and we both had our weapons drawn as we cleared the unit. Satisfied with our search, we reholstered and opened all the blinds in the dark apartment before heading out to grab our bags.

“Mason—what the fuck?” I slammed the door to my truck shut and slung my bag over my shoulder. “I said one bag each.”

He hefted a box out of the backseat of his truck and reached in for another. “Yeah, you also said the essentials.”

“What do you deem essential?” I walked quickly over and opened the top. “I told you to leave the apartment looking like we still lived there, dumbass! How is taking this looking like we still live there?” Folding the flaps over each other, I pushed the box with our Blu-ray player and all our Blu-rays aside and checked the next box. “Our Xbox is not essential!”

“Dude, how can you even say that? Of course it is.”

“Not when we’re on assignment,” I hissed.

“We’re supposed to look normal. And when aren’t we playing Xbox when on assignment? We killed Juarez and his boys in all our online tournaments.”

Okay. He had a point. We were always playing. “But still, Mason. If someone goes to our place and sees our Xbox, the controllers, games, and headsets gone, not to mention the hundred or so movies and Blu-ray player . . . you don’t think they’ll find that suspicious?”

“Well . . .” He stood up and raked a hand through his hair. “Whatever. They were essential.”

“God, I fucking hate you sometimes.”

He shrugged, then picked up his bag and one of the boxes. “You know you’d be bitching in a week if I’d left them. You’re welcome in advance.”

“Hey, boys.”

We turned to see a short, freaking gorgeous blonde in next to nothing standing there with a coy smile crossing her face.

“I’m Candice.” She bounced once on her toes and the bikini top she was wearing didn’t do much in the way of helping keep her girls in. “I take it you’re just moving in?”

“Thank the good Lord above,” Mason whispered next to me, and I huffed a laugh. “We are. I’m Mason. This is my cousin Logan.”

“Cousins? Wow.” Her eyes went wide and she dragged her teeth over her bottom lip as she stuck her chest out even farther. God, could this girl have been any more obvious? “Do you need any help moving in?”

I almost laughed. She was the size of a toothpick. “Uh, no. We’re good, this is all we have. Thanks anyway.”

Her brow furrowed as she took in the two small boxes and bags but quickly smoothed out. “So, you’re moving into the apartment directly across from ours. We’ll be neighbors.”

Oh, joy. I sucked on my lip ring and watched Mason walk right up next to her.

“Really now? Lucky me, unless . . . you said ‘ours.’ You aren’t living with your boyfriend or anything, are you?”

“No!” She slapped Mason’s arm and giggled. Actually. Freaking. Giggled. Like a damn toddler. “It’s me and Rachel, she’s my best friend. She’s not here right now, but I’m sure you’ll like her. All the guys do, she’s the pretty one.” She pouted and I’m pretty sure I did laugh then.

Good God. I’d only been around this girl for two minutes and already she was annoying me. I was a guy. I didn’t mind if you wanted to walk around in your bikini. But the way she continued to bounce and stick her chest out as she devoured us and fished for compliments was a sure way to get me to lose interest fast. Girls who had to try that hard were better fitted for Mason. Obviously. But shit, if Candice was like this, I couldn’t imagine how bad her friend was. I didn’t want to put up with this during an assignment; living across from them was going to be a nightmare. I didn’t like first-floor apartments anyway. I wondered if Chief would let us change.

Leaving them to blow smoke up each other’s asses, I walked back to our unit and dumped the box in the living room and the bag in one of the bedrooms. We needed to go shopping for beds and couches soon. But I was too damn tired for that after all the driving we’d done. When I walked back outside, Candice was practically leaning against Mason and he was eating it up. I shook my head and punched his shoulder as I passed them.

“Help me get my bike down.”

My Harley was my baby. Usually when we were on assignments, she went into storage, but not this time. I didn’t know how long we were gonna be in Texas, and I’d already gone long enough without her. So there was no way I was leaving her in Florida. Besides, Chief had left Texas plates for her too.

“Gonna go put gas in her,” I told Mason when we put the tailgate back up.

“All right. Candice wants the four of us to go out to dinner tonight. You game?”

With cheerleaders one and two? Fuck. “Sure. Not like we have food anyway.”

“Sweet. See you when you get back. Don’t get lost.”

“Okay, Mom.”

Rachel

THE LAST FEW weeks had gone by in a blur. Finals had been easier than I’d hoped, and I’d gotten pretty decent grades in all of my classes. Blake hadn’t bothered me since that horrible weekend and Candice and I had moved into our apartment two weeks ago. She was starting cheer camp next week and couldn’t wait. I was excited for her, and for me. Because all I wanted was some time to myself. What had happened with Blake had shaken me more than I’d expected it to, and I was finding it difficult to move past it. It didn’t help that Candice still viewed him as her perfect older cousin who could do no wrong.

THE DAY AFTER Blake attacked me, I woke up late in the afternoon, and the first thing I noticed was the pain in my throat and lower body and stinging in my eyes. That morning came flooding back to me and my body instantly started shaking. Candice had been sitting at her desk, but when she heard me stir, she grabbed her drink and came to sit on my bed with me.

“Are you okay, Rach? You had a rough night last night.” Candice spoke slowly and carefully, making sure not to say anything that would set me off again.

My head shook quickly back and forth and I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her as tight as my shaky body would allow. She had no idea how thankful I was for her and her timing.

“Those guys didn’t hurt you too bad, did they, Rach? They didn’t—they didn’t . . .”

“No. Candice. No. Blake—”

“I know, Rach. Blake took such good care of you last night, he was so sweet to you.”

No! A sob broke free and the tears poured down my cheeks as I tried to tell her how wrong she was. “No. Blake—my car—he . . . he did something and I—I thought I was going crazy!”

“It’s okay, sweetie. He took me to pick up your Jeep from Starbucks a few hours ago. It’s in the parking lot.”

“W-what?”

“Aww, Rach. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you last night. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened to you. I’m so thankful Blake was there for you.”

A bone-deep shudder rocked my body and I tried to pull back from her; she wasn’t understanding! “You’re not listening! Blake’s the one who attacked me!”

“Rachel! Why the hell would you say something like that?!”

“Because he did! Before you came back!”

She pushed away from my bed and faced me with a cold glare. “How dare you accuse my family of something like that! I know you had a rough night, Rachel, and I’m sorry! But you can’t just pin it on Blake. I can’t—” She huffed loudly. “I can’t believe you would do something like this. Why do you hate him so much? If you don’t want to date him, then fine, but don’t blame him for something like that. God, I feel like I don’t even know you.”

My phone rang from my desk, and she stormed across the room to go to answer it.

“Hello? Hey, Blake, yeah, she’s finally awake . . . She’s okay, still shaken up from it . . . No, you’re so sweet, but I’ll take care of her today . . . Yeah, I’m sure . . . Okay, love you too. Here she is.”

My head was shaking a no when Candice tried to hand me the phone, and she eventually just shoved it into my palm. I just stood there staring at the front of it in horror. Candice huffed and forced my hand so the phone was pressed to my ear and went to sit back at her desk.

“Y-you—”

“Took care of you,” he said, cutting me off. “I have a witness.”

“No,” I whispered, and glanced up at Candice.

“Who’s going to believe anything you say, Rachel? My own cousin and your best friend saw me taking care of you after you’d been attacked. She saw me hold you after you fainted. She watched me vow I would never let anyone touch you again as you slept. And trust me when I say, Rachel, I will never let anyone else touch what is mine. And you. Are. Mine.”

Who was this man? Where was the Blake I’d grown up with? My heartbeat felt like it stuttered and I sat there in silence as I thought through every different outcome of telling people about what had happened last night.

When I didn’t say anything for a while, Blake spoke again. “Did you just realize that I’d come out the hero no matter what?”

“Stay away from me,” I said shakily, and took a deep breath in as I tried to put some strength behind my words as I repeated them: “Stay away from me, Blake.”

I hit the end button and let my phone fall to my bed before pressing my fist to my mouth to muffle my new sobs.

Candice snatched my phone from me and walked back to her desk. When she was seated she turned her glare on me. “You’re probably just having a freak-out because Blake was the one to take care of you after your traumatic experience.”

“You’re supposed to be my best friend! Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because even though I love you and I hate what happened to you, you’re being a bitch by accusing Blake!”

I jerked back on the bed. Oh my God. How did she not understand any of this? I wanted to scream at her to listen to me. But I knew Blake was right; no one would believe me. Especially Candice. He was perfect in her eyes. He was perfect in everyone’s eyes. And what proof did I have? None. Nothing but horrific memories.

“Have you told Blake we’re moving into an apartment here this summer?”

“No . . .” She drew the word out and tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

“I don’t want him to know, Candice. I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t—I just don’t want anything to do with him.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she whispered.

“Please, just don’t! If you won’t believe me, then please just do this for me.”

She shook her head quickly and straightened her back. After a few deep breaths she opened her eyes again. “I know this is all just because you’re going through a lot. I think we should spend a minute apart. Take a Xanax, lie down, and rest. I’ll go pick up some Chinese food and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Then, after you’ve had time to relax, we’ll talk about what really happened to you, okay?” Before I could respond, she grabbed her purse and practically ran out of the room.

I SPENT THE morning and early afternoon writing to my parents at Starbucks, and though it usually left me feeling closer to them, connected somehow, today just wasn’t cutting it. It could’ve had something to do with the fact that I was pulled over by an APD officer for going thirty-nine in a thirty-five, or that Starbucks got my order way wrong. Honestly, how is an iced vanilla latte confused for an iced coffee with caramel? Or it could’ve had something to do with the sporty silver Lexus convertible that had pulled up next to my car and had me in a near panic attack in the middle of the café since I had a big chair next to a window with a perfect view of the parking lot. Didn’t matter that it was a woman with dark hair driving it. I’d already started my minor freak-out. There was no stopping it. Any one of those things could have made it so I didn’t enjoy writing to them, but I was in a funk now, regardless.

I shut my eyes and listened to the remainder of “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain in my car before preparing to get out. My dad used to sing that to my mom when they thought I wasn’t looking. He’d pull her close in the kitchen and dance with her slowly as he softly sang each word in her ear. My dad was sweet like that, and I remember thinking I wanted a guy just like him. A rugged-looking softy who would take the time to dance with his wife for no reason at all. He looked at her like she was the world. And I’d vowed to never settle for less. But after Daniel and Blake, I was considering becoming a nun, or a crazy cat lady like our new neighbor Mrs. Adams. Either sounded pretty perfect to me.

As soon as Edwin’s voice and the saxophone drifted off, I turned my car off, and opened my door. A short shriek burst from my chest and I tried to slam my door shut, but I already had one leg out and ended up just causing more pain and damage than I would’ve if I’d left the door alone. I pushed it back open, avoiding the motorcycle that had almost had a collision with my door, and rubbed my leg. That shit hurt.

The roar of the motorcycle stopped, and the rider whipped off his sunglasses. “Are you trying to get your door taken off?”

My heart had stopped the minute I’d looked into his piercing gray eyes, but anger quickly took over everything. “Do you always swing into parking spaces when someone is opening their door?” I rubbed my leg once more and stumbled awkwardly out of my car. I realized he hadn’t answered me, and after shutting my door and locking the car, I turned to face him, a frown tugging at my lips when I saw him smirking. “I’m fine, if you’re wondering.”

He sat up straight on his Harley and took a deep breath in. “I’m sorry I made you hurt yourself. I’m Kash, by the way.”

“Cash . . . like money? Or Johnny?”

“Um, I guess we can go with Johnny, but with a K.”

“Kash with a K. Got it. That’s a, uh . . . very interesting name. Fits the image, I guess.”

His head jerked back. “I’m sorry, what?”

I took a few steps toward the apartments before turning to look at him, my hand waving over his frame, which was now hunched back over his bike. I wondered who he was here to see. “You know, the whole ‘bad boy’ thing you’ve got going on there. Tattoos, lip ring, Harley. Makes sense you’d have a nickname and try to make it, I don’t know, awesome or something by having it start with a K. Have a nice day; try not to almost take any more car doors off, Kash with a K.”

Kash huffed a short laugh and his brow creased; he opened his mouth to speak but I turned and found my way to my apartment before he could say anything else. I was in a pissy mood, and I really didn’t want to deal with someone like him. Didn’t matter if my heart had skipped a few beats and butterflies had taken up residence in my stomach when I first saw him. I’d had issues with two perfectly normal-looking guys; a bad boy was definitely not in my future. Guys, in general, weren’t in my future.

“Candi, I’m home,” I called, and walked through the living room to my room to kick off my shoes and toss my purse and cell on the bed.

“Ohmigod!” she screeched as she followed me into my room. “You have got to see the guys who just moved in across the hall from us!”

“No thanks,” I mumbled.

“Seriously, Rach, these guys are hot with a capital hot. Mason and Logan, they’re cousins. You’ve got to meet them.”

“Like I said—” I turned and stopped short when I saw her. “Candice, please tell me you haven’t met them yet.”

“Of course I have!”

“Were you wearing that?”

She rolled her eyes and turned to check herself out in my full-length mirror. “Duh, I had to show them the goods that will be living next to them!”

“Candice! You’re in cheer shorts and a bikini top! Did you even go to the pool today?”

“Uh, no. But anyway, it doesn’t matter if you want to meet them or not. We’re going out for dinner with both of them tonight.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to our living room, pushing back the curtain and peeking through the blinds at the unit directly across from ours. It looked the same as it always did. No activity.

“You might be going out for dinner. I’m not going anywhere. Besides, this way you have two guys all to yourself.” I stepped away from the window and headed toward my room, looking back over my shoulder at her as I said, “You might want to warn them that you aren’t a one-guy kind of girl, though.”

She flipped me off without taking her gaze from the window.

“Oh, you know I’m kidding . . . but for real, warn them.”

“So hateful.” She shook her head and dropped the blinds and curtains before walking past me toward her own room. “Whatever, I’ll be lucky if either is interested in me after they’ve seen you. I’m going to hop in the shower, and you should start getting ready soon. We’re leaving at seven.”

“I’m not going, Candice!” But it didn’t matter; she’d already shut her bedroom door.

With a sigh, I turned and went to my bathroom. Stripping out of my comfy clothes, I turned the shower on and waited until the room was filled with steam before stepping in.

And no, I still wasn’t going.

That’s what I continued to tell myself when I was doing my makeup almost forty-five minutes later and when I did large, loose curls throughout the bottom half of my long hair. Not going. Just getting ready to sit around the apartment looking pretty. When my hair was done, I checked my makeup one more time, making sure the smoky eyes were just enough to make my blue eyes pop but not so much that I looked like I was going clubbing. I flossed and brushed my teeth, told myself one more time I wasn’t going to go, then went to my closet to pick out something to wear.

Candice burst into my room thirty minutes later, and I was standing there in a bra and underwear, just staring at my closet.

“I can’t believe you’re not dressed yet! I told you to get ready! They’re going to be here in, like, five minutes!”

“I think this is a sign that I shouldn’t go.”

She huffed and pushed me out of my closet before walking in. “You can tell yourself all you want that you’re not going. But even if you’d stayed all skanked out like you were earlier, I would’ve still dragged you out the door with us.”

I wanted to sneer at her and ask why it was okay to stay skanked out with these guys and not Blake, but I kept my mouth shut. We hadn’t talked about the situation with Blake since Candice had come back to the dorm with food and ice cream that afternoon. It was just easier this way.

In less than two minutes, Candice was walking out of my closet and throwing my outfit onto the bed. “There. Get dressed.”

“Heels? Candice, are these guys even tall?” I’m five eight. And these were four-and-a-half-inch stilettos.

“Yeah, they’re ginormous, they’re going to be here any second, get dressed!”

“Gah, so pushy.” I dressed in my faded skinny jeans, black stilettos, and a loose black tank. The kind you have to wear a camisole underneath unless you feel like showing the entire world what Victoria’s Secret really is. As soon as I was done, Candice was in front of me, her lips pursed as she critiqued my outfit. “Well?”

She stamped her foot—yes, Candice still stamped her foot like a five-year-old—and her pursed lips turned into a pout. “This is so not fair! Can I have your boobs for just one night?”

“Yeah, sure . . . let me just take them off,” I said, deadpan. “Tell me, Candi, do I look all right?”

“Uh, yeah. I’d do you.”

I snorted, “You’re disgusting.”

“You love me.”

Rolling my eyes, I walked into my bathroom and put on some perfume. “It’s true.”

Just then there was a knock on the door. Candice squealed, did her little happy clap, and left my room. I took everything I would need out of my monster of a purse and threw it in the dark green clutch Candice had dropped on my bed as well. With one last breath and look in the mirror, I stepped out into the living room and tripped over myself when I saw them. My hand shot out to the wall to keep myself somewhat vertical, and both guys standing near the door with Candice took a step toward me with eyes wide and arms out. Like they could catch me from over twenty feet away.

This is not happening.

“Wow, smooth, Rach.” Candice sighed and shook her head.

When I righted myself, I tried to keep my eyes on the ground or anywhere but on him. But of course I found myself locked in his steely gaze. Recognition flashed in them and that stupid smirk crossed his face.

“Guys, this is my roommate and best friend, Rachel. Rachel, this is Mason and Logan.”

Swallowing the last of my pride, I walked over to them, this time without any incident, and reached out to shake their hands. They looked a lot alike. Both were tall—still a few inches taller than me even with those heels on—tan, and had dark just-got-out-of-bed hair. The one standing closest to Candice, who reintroduced himself as Mason, had arms so massive, I swear the sleeves of his shirt were about to tear from how much they were stretching against the bulging muscles. To be honest, they were kind of frightening. He had tribal tattoos coming down both arms, stopping halfway down; a killer smile; and dominating eyes. But then he picked me up in a big bear hug, and all freaky thoughts of him melted away. Massive teddy bear.

I laughed and pushed away from him when he set me back down, and I turned my narrowed eyes on the guy standing next to him. “I like the name Logan. You should stick with it. It sounds much better than Kash.”

Mason snorted and Candice groaned into her hand before gasping and pointing at me. “Wait! You know him?”

“Yeah, he tried to take my car door off this afternoon when I got back.”

Kash . . . Logan—whatever his name was—stopped sucking on his lip ring and I had the strangest urge to take over that lovely task for him. “You know, we could always turn that around and say you tried to ruin my bike.”

“You pulled into the spot way too fast, and I’d been opening my door!”

“Fast? Sweetheart, I promise I wasn’t going fast, and I’d already been turning in before you opened your door. It’s not my fault you threw your door open.”

“I did not throw my door open! And don’t call me sweetheart. You don’t know me.”

“Uh, Rach. You do kinda throw your door open.”

“Candice.” I turned to look at her and gave her a Whose side are you on? look. “So not helping right now!”

“So,” Mason said loudly, and clapped his hands, “I’m starving. We going?”

Just as I was about to say I was going to stay home, and actually mean it this time, Candice grabbed my hand and walked me toward the door. “Yep!”

I turned, waiting for Logan to exit the apartment so I could lock the door, and found him directly in front of me. I inhaled sharply, and his eyes slowly worked their way down my body and back up. When his liquid-steel eyes met mine, I swear I shivered and my skin was instantly covered with goose bumps. That stupid smirk came back and I narrowed my eyes at him as I tried to ignore the way my heart was pounding.

Calm down, Rachel. He’s annoying, and he’s not even cute. Those eyes do not put you in a daze, that smile does not pierce you to the floor. You do not want to bite down on that ring on the left side of his bottom lip. You do not want to rip his shirt off to see the muscles that fill it out perfectly. And you do not want to spend hours studying his tattoo sleeves. Not. At. All.

Candice couldn’t have been more obvious when she suggested we take my Jeep or that Logan ride in front with me. But there was no point in arguing. Candice always got her way. Obviously.

“So, let’s take the guys to the Oasis, Rach. That way they can see the lake.”

Thank God I hadn’t started driving yet, because I slammed on the brake even though I was still in park. “No!” Everyone in the car jerked back. “I mean, um . . . it’s just always so crowded there. And on a summer night, it’s gonna be crazy.” Anything that reminded me of Blake, I definitely wanted to avoid.

“Oh . . . kay. Well then.” Candice thought for a second before saying warily, “Are you going to freak out if I suggest Hula Hut?”

“No, I’m not. And I—I didn’t freak out.”

“Whatever, Rachel. Just drive.”

I glanced in the rearview mirror to see her give me a Cool it look before turning to whisper in Mason’s ear.

“Hey, are you gonna be okay to drive?” Logan asked softly in my ear. “You look sick all of a sudden.”

“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth, and shot him a glare as I backed out of my space.

“I didn’t— Jesus,” he huffed, and sat back. “Forget it.”

I took a shaky breath in and held it for a few seconds before releasing it. I knew I was being rude. But it was like I couldn’t stop. “So why’d you tell me your name is Kash if it’s Logan? Are you a part of some motorcycle gang or something and you got stuck with the shitty nickname? Or do you just sing like Johnny Cash?” He definitely had a voice deep and smooth enough for that to be a possibility.

Logan made a noise between a scoff and a laugh and shook his head. “First off, they’re called motorcycle clubs, not gangs. And no, I’m not a part of one; I just love motorcycles. Second, you were wrong earlier, and you’re wrong now. Kash isn’t a nickname. It’s my middle name, and I’ve gone by Kash my entire life. It was my grandpa’s name.”

Oh sweet baby Jesus, someone please give me a time machine so I can restart today. “Um . . .” I tilted my head to the side and grimaced. “I’m just going to throw myself out of the car now.”

“Didn’t mean to make you think I’d lied to you or something. Mason was the one who introduced us to your roommate and I was on my way out to fill my bike up with gas, so I didn’t have time to talk to her. He always introduces me as Logan. Not really sure why.”

“I’m really sorry. I’ve—” I quickly broke off. There was no point in explaining I’d had a bad day. I’d been a bitch, and there was really no excuse for that. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So,” I said a couple minutes later, “you just moved in? Are you from the Austin area, or . . .” I trailed off and glanced over to see him sucking on the damn lip ring again. Why was that so hot?

“Ah, no. We’re from . . . far East Texas.”

Vague. “Um. Okay. What brought you here?”

“Change of pace mostly. How about you? You from the area?”

“We’re from far West Texas.” I let that linger for a moment before turning and shooting him a grin. “Otherwise known as California.”

“Smart-ass.” He smiled wide and I forced my eyes back on the road. Oh Lord, that smile was perfect. “Let me guess. College?”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t it summer? Wouldn’t you want to go home during vacation?”

“Uh, yeah. It is . . . but Candice has a cheer camp for elementary-school girls she’s working at this summer. And where Candice goes, I go.”

He huffed softly and looked back at Candice and Mason. “Cheerleader. Yeah, I’d already kinda pegged her as one; she looks like it.”

At barely over five feet, with bleached blond hair, bright green eyes, and an ever-present smile and bounce in her step, yeah, she definitely looked like it.

“So you’re a cheerleader too?”

“Ha! Um, no. Definitely not.” Candice usually had to drag me to games and was always getting on me about my lack of enthusiasm for sports. Not my fault they reminded me of my dad. I would always sit on the couch with him while he watched whatever games were playing. He’d taught me everything there was to know about each sport, and watching them now, I could still hear him calling out fouls, flags, and strikes before the refs or umps did it themselves.

“So . . .” Kash drew out the word and turned his body so his back was against the door and he was facing me.

“So, what?”

“You’re not a cheerleader; what are you?”

For such an innocent question, it hit me deep. I felt like I was walking around lost half the time, and the other half I was just following Candice to be near someone I considered family so I wouldn’t break down. I’d only majored in athletic training because it was close to Candice’s major. I didn’t want to do anything with it when I graduated—to be honest, I had no idea what I wanted to do when I graduated. I didn’t know who I was, let alone who, and what, I wanted to be.

“I’m just Rachel,” I finally answered, and flickered a glance toward Kash to see his brow furrow as he studied me.

We got to the restaurant without my having a minor freak-out or impulsively slamming on the brakes again. But hell if I didn’t start drifting into the lanes next to us a few times because I kept sneaking glances at Kash. And by the way the corners of his mouth kept tilting up like he was fighting off a grin, I knew he was aware of why I was currently not helping women’s driving statistics.

Candice and I ordered margaritas while the guys ordered beers, and I downed my margarita so fast, the guys were looking at me like I was a crazy alcoholic, and Candice just looked embarrassed. I really didn’t even care anymore what they all thought. I’d had a bad day and instead of its getting better, I’d continued to make it worse. Looking at the large glass, which only had ice left in it, I frowned and set it back down on the table. Whenever I was the one driving, I only allowed myself to have one drink, and now I was regretting not enjoying that.

“Do you want another?” Kash asked with a lazy smile that I wasn’t sure if I hated or loved yet.

“No, I drove. One’s enough.”

“I’ll drive us back if you want.” We were in a small booth, and Candice had made it a point to sit with Mason, which put Kash and me in a position to get all up close and personal whether we wanted to or not. And now he was leaning in and the smell of his musky cologne was calling my name. “You look like you need more than one.”

His cologne had officially stopped talking to me. I sat back so I was smashed against the wall and raised an eyebrow at him. “Just like I look sick? You really are quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “And you really know how to turn shit around so I look like an asshole, don’t you?”

I huffed a laugh. “Just saying . . . girls don’t like to hear they look bad. I’m almost waiting for you to tell me I look tired next.”

Kash’s eyes roamed my face. “Well, I wasn’t planning on mentioning it . . .”

“Wow.” My jaw dropped and I blinked rapidly. “I don’t need to do a thing. You make yourself look like an asshole all on your own.”

He laughed loudly and leaned in closer than he’d been before. “I don’t know what happened in the car earlier, but you looked like you’d seen a ghost. And right now, you’re putting off an uncomfortable vibe that I’m sure half the restaurant can feel. You know you look beautiful, but that doesn’t hide the underlying stress that is rolling off you.” Before I could say anything, he continued. “So that makes me assume you’ve had a really bad day, which is why I offered to drive us all home so you could have another drink or two. If you honestly think what I’ve said means you look bad, then that’s your own problem you’ll have to deal with. And as long as you’re giving some attitude, be prepared to get some in return.”

Oh. Wow. If he hadn’t already bothered me so much, I’d have wanted to make him my new best friend. Or maybe that was the tequila already hitting my completely empty stomach. He cocked an eyebrow and I decided it was definitely the tequila talking.

When he sat back, I turned to look at the table and busied myself by eating chips and salsa, and the next time the waiter passed us, Kash ordered me another margarita. He and I didn’t say anything to each other or the flirting duo across from us until it was delivered to the table.

Pushing it toward me, he smiled softly and kept his eyes on the drink. “I’ll get us back to the complex. Just relax, and maybe try to enjoy this one, yeah?”

I laughed and his eyes flashed down to mine. Taking the drink, I took a sip and relaxed into the back of the booth. I didn’t understand this guy sitting next to me, and although I wanted to hate him, I found myself smiling as I thought about his no-bullshit attitude. I’d had a bad day and taken it out on a stranger—a gorgeous stranger, no less—and while I still felt embarrassed about the first and second impressions I was leaving, I couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

But then thoughts of Blake crept back into my mind and I pushed down any feelings that may have started making themselves known about Kash as I scooted closer to the wall of the booth. Getting caught up in a guy was the last thing I needed right now.