Oh, Jesus. I sucked in a breath and looked away, narrowing my eyes to get my damn head under control. What the hell?

But then Jax laughed.

Not a sympathetic laugh. Not a laugh that said he was just kidding. No, it was a laugh that told me I was the joke.

“Don’t worry, K.C.” He smiled, looking down on me as if I was pathetic. “I’m well aware your pussy is too precious for me, okay?”

Excuse me?

I knocked his hand away from my collarbone. “You know what?” I shot out, my fingers fisting. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you actually make Jared look like a gentleman.”

And the little shit grinned. “I love my brother, but get one thing straight.” He leaned in. “He and I are nothing alike.”

Yeah. My heart didn’t pound around Jared. The hair on my arms didn’t stand on end around him, either. I wasn’t conscious of where he was and what he was doing every second that we were in the same room together. Jax and Jared were very different.

“Tattoos,” I muttered.

“What?”

Shit! Did I just say that out loud?

“Um … ,” I choked out, staring wide-eyed in front of me, which just happened to be at his bare chest. “Tattoos. Jared has them. You don’t. How come?” I asked, finally looking up.

His eyebrows inched together, but he didn’t look angry. It was more … befuddled.

Jared’s back, shoulder, arm, and part of his torso were covered with tattoos. Even Jared and Jax’s best friend, Madoc Caruthers, had one. You would think with those influences, Jax would’ve gotten at least one by now. But he hadn’t. His long torso and arms were unmarked.

I waited as he stared at me and then licked his lips. “I have tattoos,” he whispered, looking lost in thought. “Too many.”

I didn’t know what I saw in his eyes at that moment, but I knew I’d never seen it before.

Backing away, he wouldn’t meet my gaze as he turned and left the house. He closed the door, locked it, and walked down the porch steps quietly.

Moments later, I heard Jared’s Boss and Liam’s Camaro fire up and speed down the dark street.

And an hour later, I was still lying awake in Tate’s bed, running my finger over the spot he’d touched on my collarbone and wondering about the Jaxon Trent I never got to know.

CHAPTER 1

K.C.

Two years later

Shelburne Falls was an average-size town in northern Illinois. Not too small but barely big enough to have its own mall. To the naked eye, it was picturesque. Sweet in its “no two homes are alike” originality and welcoming in its “can I help you carry your groceries to the car?” kind of way.

Secrets were kept behind closed doors, and there were always too many prying eyes, but the sky was blue, the leaves rustling in the wind sounded like music, and kids still played outside rather than zoned out on video games all the time.

I loved it here. But I also hated who I was here.

When I left for college two years ago, I had made a promise to spend every day trying to be better than I was. I was going to be an attentive girlfriend, a trustworthy friend, and a perfect daughter.

I rarely came home, choosing to spend last summer counseling at a summer camp in Oregon and visiting my college roommate, Nik, at her home in San Diego. My mother got to brag about my busy lifestyle, and my old friends really didn’t seem to miss me, so it all worked out.

Shelburne Falls wasn’t a bad place. It was perfect, actually. But I was less than perfect here, and I didn’t want to come home until I could show all of them that I was stronger, tougher, and smarter.

But that shit blew up in my face. Big-time.

Not only did I breeze back into town much sooner than I’d wanted, but my arrival was on the heels of a court order. Awesome impression, K.C.

My phone rang, and I blinked as I came out of my thoughts. Adjusting the covers, I sat up in bed and slid the screen on my Galaxy.

“Tate, hi.” I smiled, not even bothering to say hello. “You’re up early.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Her cheerful voice was a relief.

“You didn’t.” I swung my legs out of bed and stood up, stretching. “I was just getting up.”

Tate had been my best friend all through high school. She still was, I guess. During senior year, though, I’d changed our friendship. I wasn’t there when she needed me, and now she kept about two feet of personal space when I was around. I didn’t blame her. I messed up, and I hadn’t manned up to talk about it. Or apologize.

And despite my mother’s oft-repeated words of “wisdom,” I should have. “Apologizing is lowering yourself, K.C. Nothing is really a mistake until you admit you’re sorry for it. Until then, it’s just a difference of opinion. Don’t ever apologize. It weakens you in front of others.”

But Tate rolled with it. I guess she figured that I needed her friendship more than she needed me to say I was sorry.

But all in all, I was positive of two things. She loved me, but she didn’t trust me.

She was chewing something as she spoke, and I heard a refrigerator door shut in the background. “I just wanted to make sure you got settled in okay and that you’re comfortable.”

I pulled my white cami back down over my stomach as I walked to the French doors. “Tate, thank you so much to you and your dad for letting me crash here. I feel like a burden.”

“Are you kidding?” she burst out, her voice high-pitched in surprise. “You’re always welcome, and you’ll stay for as long as you need.”