Solace.

Music.

Passion.

Three things that have kept me going. Even after all this time, I still find my happiness in the beats of a song. Even though I’m broken, I still have this one thing that allows me to remember who I am.

My life hasn’t been easy. Yeah, I grew up wealthy, with friends in the same circle, fancy parties every weekend, but those things never made me happy.

Her face flits through my mind. As always, I growl out my frustration as I listen to the beat, making up the moves as I do.

She’s been a part of me for far too long. The young girl who didn’t fit in, beside the boy who always stood out. When I went out with Preston and Jeremiah, people would stare. With my ink, my piercings, they thought I was trouble.

If only they knew.

And even then, when I was thought of as the bad boy in town, she saw me. Her big, innocent eyes looked through me, noticing the small parts of me I hid behind a tough exterior. It was Piper who gave me something to live for. She made me love when I believed I was incapable of loving. But I couldn’t do much about my feelings for her, because she was far too young.

She’s in the pool. I’m lying back on the lounger beside her brother. My eyes are glued to her behind my shades. Thankfully, Preston hasn’t noticed me checking out his sister. Dressed in the skimpiest bikini known to man, she wades through the clear blue water and steps out of the pool.

Water trickles over her golden skin. The tight pink material hugs the globes of her ass. Small triangles cover what I want to see, what my mouth waters to devour. But I shake it off when I feel my groin churn with want.

Her hair, the color of silky spun gold, hangs down to the curve of her lower back, just above the waistline of her bikini bottoms. Long lithe legs—toned from her love of dancing—tease me.

“Dude,” Preston grunts from beside me, jolting me up from where I’ve been ogling Piper.

“What?”

He sits up, handing me his phone. “Those two chicks invited us to their house party this weekend,” he boasts, but I don’t care. They don’t hold my interest, but I can’t tell him that, so I nod. “You coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

He chuckles. Grabbing the device, he rises and presses it to his ear. “Hey, baby.”

I turn back to Piper. She’s dried off, but her hair is still dripping down her back. With a quick glance at Preston, I quickly make my way over to her. “You been practicing?” I question when I reach her as she strolls into the pool house. Her ass wiggles as she walks. Her hips sway hypnotically, and I’m entranced.

“Yeah, but I’ve hurt my ankle,” she pouts and it takes all my restraint not to imagine what her mouth could do to me.

“Want me to check it out?” I offer, meeting her inquisitive stare.

“Okay.” This time, she blushes. The rosy color looks good on her cheeks. She settles in the armchair, lifting her foot and placing it on my knee as I crouch down before her. My gaze immediately falls to the juncture between her thighs and my dick throbs. Shit.

Dragging my eyes away, I focus on her ankle. My fingers work the joint, causing soft whimpers to tumble from her lips, and I’m hard. Rock fucking hard. This was not a good idea. Shoving her leg away, I grit out through clenched teeth, “I have to go,” and make my way out of the small living room, leaving her boring a hole in my back with her big blue eyes.

The memory of that day hangs over me like a storm cloud. Reminding me of what I had, how much that day changed me because that was the moment I knew I was in love with her. She followed me out of the pool house and told me she liked me.

“Ryder.” Her voice stalls me mid-stride. “I saw… I mean… You back there,” she stumbles over her words, but I can’t face her because she’ll see the bulge in my shorts. I’m not sure where her brother is, but I’m sure as shit glad he isn’t out here.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I respond icily.

“Look at me,” she demands this time. Feisty little girl. I give her what she wants. I turn to her. “I like you, Ryder. It’s clear. Isn’t it?”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Well, shit, it’s not like I have a choice.”

“Watch your mouth,” I grit through clenched teeth, trying to imagine how hot it would be to hear her say fuck, to hear her moan my name.

“Why don’t you watch it?” Her retort is spat hotly and I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger, tugging her closer just with the simple touch. I lean in—praying to all the gods that her brother doesn’t walk outside—and crash my mouth down on hers.

Her soft lips yield to mine easily. Her tongue—tentative and shy—darts out, tasting mine, and I can’t help groaning at the sensation. She gently sucks my tongue into her mouth. The heat of her, the sweet taste of her innocence is enough to turn a sane man crazy.

It’s enough to have me addicted, and I’m afraid that even if I pull away now, even if I never kissed her at all, I’ve been hooked for far longer than I care to admit.

I pull away, leaving her breathing heavily, and race into the house. In the bathroom, I shut the door and open the tap, splashing cold water on my face to keep from going back out there and taking her in front of the world. To lay claim to a pretty young girl who’s fucked with my head.

The music that spills out of the speaker carries me through the movements. I try to shake Piper from my mind and focus on the dance. It’s all fluid. My body curls and bounces through the routine I’m planning for the kids. There’s a dance competition coming up in three weeks, and I need them to practice every day. This is their chance at finding solace in something that’s always offered me happiness. To find passion for something that will one day be something that could carry them into dance school.

School has always been important to me, and being able to help others follow their dream is something I want to do. Not being able to follow mine any longer still leaves a sour taste in my mouth, but I swallow it down as I think about their bright futures.

My body aches.

Everything hurts as sweat trickles down my back. I’ve been practicing for two days straight. But if I’m completely honest with myself, I’ve been avoiding Piper. After our talk the other night, I felt myself wanting her again, more so than I should allow myself, and that in itself is dangerous.

I pick up the pack of cigarettes on the speaker and tap one out. Flicking the lid of my Zippo, I light the white stick. Smoke fills my lungs and I breathe it in, the calm, the nicotine that offers me a serenity that alcohol can no longer do.

Every inch of me burns. There’s tension in my muscles from the pain I live with daily. Both physical and emotional. I never should’ve come back. Seeing Piper again has done something to me. It’s the same as it’s always been with her. The more I see, touch, taste, the more I want and need.

Her light has always brightened my dark. She was perfect to all my flaws and even now, all grown up, she’s still everything I need but also everything I can’t have.

“You’re here.” Her voice comes from behind me, shocking me still. I turn to find Piper staring at me.