Three years later…
I take a sip of my drink and relax against the recliner by the pool. God bless the first day of summer holidays. No homework or assignments—just an endless stretch of sunshine, barbeques, and only one brother to deal with. Jared is holidaying on the Gold Coast with a friend and their family, and Travis is at a go-karting camp—the very idea so lame I couldn’t even summon a laugh at his expense.
Drink in hand, I expel a deep sigh of pleasure and close my eyes behind the dark lenses of my sunglasses. After several minutes, I zone out in the heat of the day. Moments later a ball slaps me up the side of my face. I jump a mile in the air. Sticky cordial splashes down my front and stars dance in my vision. I raise a hand to my cheek, making sure it hasn’t imploded from the impact.
When I’m sure there’s no serious damage, I aim furious eyes at my brother where he’s playing volleyball in the pool with friends. “Goddammit, Stitch!”
I know he threw the ball. The savage hit is payback for plucking away at the threads in the backside of his school shorts. It took all day, but they finally split right down the seam when the afternoon bus arrived and he bent over to pick up his school bag. It was brilliant. I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. I can even say it’s worth a punch to the face with a volleyball.
Still. I can’t let this go. Setting my drink down, I grab the ball and stand. Stalking to the edge of the pool, I glare down at him bobbing in the sparkly blue water. His friends stare. Particularly Elijah Rossiter. I have teeny flourishing boobs and an itsy bitsy bright red bikini. The ensemble is enough to set my brother’s lips in a thin line as I stand by the edge, palming the weapon between both hands.
My eyes flick to my brother’s best friend. Eli is the son of Alan Rossiter, a big hairy deal in the policing world and one of Dad’s closest friends. He’s in the same grade as Mitch, and they’ve grown up together, forming a friendship that appears as unbreakable as iron. Eli is also hotter than the surface of the sun. His hair is blond with a slight curl, his skin tanned, and eyes a pale blue like the waters along the coast of the Great Barrier Reef. Dimples form as I spare him a glance. I’m not a particularly likeable person so his attention confounds me. Eli is eighteen and has the pick of any girl in school, yet that charm of his always seems directed on me.
My eyes warm and lips curve the briefest fraction in response to his grin. I simply cannot help it. He’s like hot chocolate on a wintery day.
Then my gaze turns to my eldest brother and my fiery glare reforms. Without any warning, I peg the volleyball hard at his face. I’m aiming for his nose but a noise from behind distracts me and sets the ball off course. It bounces off Mitch’s forehead.
“Nice aim,” quips a male voice from behind me—a voice I haven’t heard in three years.
“Not nice enough,” I snap, irritated because that particular voice sets my heart off like a bongo drum. Turning, I come face to face with Jake Romero himself and freeze on the spot. Those flat and empty eyes of his are a little harder now. The reed thin arms are filling out, and there’s muscle definition beneath the snug-fitting tee shirt that wasn’t there before. Heat pools in parts of my body where I’ve never felt heat before. It leaves me dizzy and uncomfortable and completely unprepared. “Back so soon, Romero?”
Jake shrugs, a cocky grin forming on his lips. “Couldn’t stay away, it seems.”
I arch a brow. “Maybe I can help you with that.”
“I’m sure you can.” His smile turns mocking as he takes in my wet, sticky bikini. “But seeing you get all wet is too much fun, Princess, so I think I’ll stay for a bit.”
I bristle. Princess? I was fully prepared to offer Jake an apology for my childish behaviour from years ago, but I bite it back. That old letter I wrote is still sitting in my drawer. My new plan is to tear it into little pieces because my original instincts about him had been spot-on. Jake is a total dick.
My eyes narrow behind my sunglasses. “Stay away from me.” I brush past him, muttering, “Party wrecker,” which is lame but it’s all I have.
“Nursing a grudge, I see.”
I halt and turn. My eyes track slowly down the length of him and back up again. The gesture is meant to mock but judging from the amused expression, Jake notices the goose bumps rising over my skin. “I can nurse anything I like. Last I checked this was my house. What are you doing in it?”
“What are you saying? You didn’t miss me?”
“Miss you?” I snort. “It’s lucky I even remember you.”
A loud splash comes from the pool. Both Mitch and Eli are hauling themselves out. They make their way toward us. Eli brushes wet curls from his face as they track pool water across the sandstone tiles.
“What’s going on?” Mitch asks when they reach us. Eli stands beside him, his brow in a slight furrow and hands on his hips.
“You remember Boy Wonder don’t you?” I say.
Eli’s brows soar. “Boy Wonder?”
A scowl spreads across Jake’s face, creating creases along his forehead that only serve to heighten his appeal. “My name is Jake.”
“Romero,” Mitch says, holding out a hand. “I do remember you.”
Jake takes a step forward and shakes it. It has his shoulder brushing against mine. The move feels deliberate.
Eli holds out a hand next, a friendly smile forming across his face. “Elijah.” He looks between the two of us as Jake shakes it, his eyes sharp with curiosity. “You’re a friend of Mac’s?”
“No,” I answer at the same time Jake says, “Yes.”
An awkward pause follows.
“Well, this reunion has been super fun,” I say brightly, “but I have some reclining by the pool to do. If you’ll all excuse me.”
“Actually you don’t.”
I pause. Jake’s declaration has everyone’s brows rising in question, including my own.
“Mac and I are going skateboarding down at the local park.”
My nostrils quiver with instant excitement. Enough to ignore the insulting Princess nickname Jake gave me earlier. My brothers have their own skateboards. I don’t. It’s not a female activity. Being the youngest and the only girl might make me mightier than Maximus Meridius himself, but it’s zero fun. I’m not allowed to do half of what my brothers do. Instead, I get imprisoned in my little ivory tower and treated like glass.
I do admit to being a slight trouble magnet, but I can’t help my nature. I don’t have a death wish, I’m just determined to prove that I can do whatever my brothers can: whether that’s shooting at the range, punching a school bully in the playground, or paddling out beyond the ocean break to surf the big waves.
There have been a few incidents over the years, like the time I shot Jared in the face with a paintball gun, but he taunted me by saying I couldn’t hit him square in the nose from twenty paces. I might have missed, but not by much; my aim was a little too far to the left and he almost lost an eye. Then there were the suspensions from school for fighting … but I can’t see how it’s my fault for being honest. It seems people don’t like hearing the truth about themselves. It makes them angry and violent. And while I don’t like to start fights, I sure as hell like to finish them.
Mitch is already shaking his head at Jake and my blood boils.
“That’s right,” I say with a firm voice to my brother, corroborating Jake’s story. “We’re going skateboarding, which means there’s no time for reclining by the pool. We have a park to get to.”
Mitch rears up. “Oh hell no, Mac. You—”
Eli slaps a hand on my brother’s shoulder. “Dude, let her go.” He offers me a wink. “Be safe.”
I grin in return before shooting sullen eyes at my brother. “Later, asshead,” I tell him as I snatch up Jake’s hand and tug on it, leading him toward the sliding doors that open to the back of the house. It’s our first contact and my skin hums. It’s like being attacked with static electricity.
“I’ll be telling Mum about this!” Mitch shouts to our backs.
Anger twists my belly into a knot, yet I keep moving. It’s Jake that stops and turns, forcing me to a grinding halt. “Actually it was your mother’s suggestion,” he tells my brother.
Mitch’s eyes widen. He’s completely dumbfounded. Even Eli appears a little taken aback. “It was?”
I am too. Skateboarding isn’t a ladylike endeavour. It also goes against Mum’s mantra of keeping me unattached from the strays she brings home. “It was?” I echo.
“No,” he says in a voice low enough that only I can hear. His hand squeezes mine, and my breath hitches from the renewed sensation. “Just roll with it.”
“It was,” I say to Mitch, and just like that Jake becomes my very first co-conspirator in crime. “I know all the local parks.” I don’t. And I’m sure he knows it. “Mum probably thinks it’s a good idea to get out of the house. You know, sunshine, fresh air…” my eyes narrow “…and an outdoor activity that doesn’t involve smashing people in the face with volleyballs, which I’m sure she’d love to hear about.”
My jaw still throbs. I rub at the sore spot and wince a little. Mitch’s suspicious expression eases into one of contrition yet his arms still fold unhappily.
“Well, you split my pants.”
“Prove it,” I retort and pull Jake away before my brother can escalate the situation.
“Bring her back in one piece, Romero, or else!” Mitch yells to our retreating backs.
“Or else what?” Jake asks as I lead him through the back door toward the stairs.
“Eli and my brothers know how to shoot.” I let go of his hand and climb the stairs to change, saying over my shoulder, “They’re pretty damn good at it. And so am I.”
Jake waits at the bottom, looking up at me with brows high. “No shit?”
I grin. “No shit.”
Our trip to the park is an epic disaster. I struggle on the skateboard. It’s humiliating and I hate to fail. At anything. But I like to consider myself bold and fearless, so I put my game face on and persevere. The heat of embarrassment leaves my cheeks when I eventually catch on. Hours later, the sun is setting and I’m tired and sore, but I’ve begun riding that skateboard like I was born to do it. I don’t just impress Jake with my new ability, I impress myself.
Jake whoops and flies by me on his own board, encouraging me to heights of recklessness. A bolt of confidence shoots through me like an electrical charge. My legs take command of my body, forcing me to perform a manoeuvre my brothers would classify as insane.
My borrowed skateboard hits the ramp and I go up, speed whipping the hair around my face. My intention is to reach the rim and come back down, except I don’t. I’m airborne instead. My insides lurch with adrenaline as I leave solid ground behind. I literally fly for a single, exhilarating moment that I’ll never forget. It’s an incredible rush, but I come down hard and my board goes one way while I go the other.
Now I’m splayed out on the cement, staring up at the dusky afternoon sky, trying to breathe because my body is broken in a million pieces.
“Mac!” Jake yells. I turn my head. He’s running toward me, skateboard tucked under his arm and panic turning his eyes wide. His golden brown hair is mussed and cheeks tinged pink from the heat of the afternoon. Jake Romero is beautiful. How did I not see that before?
“I was awesome, wasn’t I?” I croak when he gets close. “At least tell me that before I die.”
Jake tosses his skateboard away and skids to his knees by my side, a hysterical sound of mirth leaving his lips. Rich, brown eyes scan me hurriedly. Hands reach out to prod down my limbs. “You’re not going to die, Princess.”
“I think I’ve proved I’m no princess,” I rasp.
His gaze shoots to mine, his chest rising and falling with panicked breaths. He slows it with visible effort. “I think …”
“You think?” I prompt when he trails off.
Jake’s lips press together and something equalling affection softens his features. The gold flecks in his eyes come to life, just how I knew they would. He sits back on his heels and stares as though he’s realised something monumental. “I think you’ll always be my princess.”
I suck in a sharp breath. Jake is infiltrating my heart in some kind of sneaky ninja attack. Is this a crush? Because it feels crappy and wonderful, and I don’t like it one bit.
“What?” he asks.
I shift my arm and screaming pain shoots up the limb. I cry out. “It hurts.”
He looks me over again. “Where?”
“My arm,” I gasp. “The right one.” I tip my head up, and we both look at it. The joint of my wrist is sitting at the wrong angle. Just looking at it has me breaking out in a sweat.
“Oh shit,” Jake mutters.
“I’m broken,” I whisper pathetically, my head hitting the pavement as it drops back down. I always considered myself a little invincible, but this has proved me otherwise.
“You are.” Jake reaches behind and tugs a phone from the back pocket of his shorts. He flips the screen and dials.
“You have a phone?” I’m fourteen and still don’t have one. My parents are fools that need to get with the times. “Who are you calling? God, not my mother. Please. She’ll kill me. Ring Mitch.”
Jake puts the phone to his ear with an expression of disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? After the whole ‘bring her back in one piece’ comment? I’m so dead.”
“You can’t tell my parents, Romero.”
“They’re going to notice a broken arm,” he points out.
“They won’t! I promise. I’ll hide it under long shirts and hoodies.”
Jake’s eyes widen like I’ve lost my mind. “In the middle of a summer heatwave?”
He ignores my protests and calls for an ambulance, even holding me down when I try rising to grab at the phone.
With it on the way, Jake tucks his phone away and clears his throat. “So … On a scale of one to ten, just how dead am I for breaking the Valentines’ only daughter?”
“For me, I’d probably say an eleven, but for you my parents will probably go easy.”
His eyes harden. “I don’t need anyone going easy on me, Mac. I can hold my own.”
“I’m sure you can,” I snap, the pain making me extra snarly, “but after everything that’s happened, they’re hardly going to be assholes.”
He stills. “Everything that’s happened?”
“With your … your …” Shit, I’m not supposed to know.
“You know,” Jake says flatly.
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do.”
“No I—”
“Did your Mum tell you? Because she’s supposed to be like my lawyer or something and keep my business private.”
I snort. “Mum’s hardly a lawyer!”
“I never said she was. I said like a lawyer,” he snaps.
“Jared overheard—”
“Whatever, Mac.”
“Dammit, Jake. I’m trying to explain here.” I shift and hiss. Despite our argument, his hand closes around mine and squeezes. The small contact is comforting. “You know, I wrote you a letter after you left.”
“Funny.” Jake cocks his head. “I didn’t get it.”
I close my eyes as the adrenaline wears off and throbbing pain escalates into agony. “I never sent it,” I rasp.
“Oh?”
“It’s still in the top drawer of the dresser in my room.”
“Why did you keep it?”
“I don’t know.” But I do know. It was the only tie I had to Jake. A reminder that he existed out there somewhere, under the same sun and stars. It was comforting in a way that didn’t make sense to me.
The ambulance arrives, minus the flashing lights and siren. It draws a small crowd. My cheeks are hot with embarrassment when I’m carted off on a stretcher for a broken wrist. I’m thankful though. Pain has me dizzy.
I’m given painkillers. Jake sits in the back with me as the pills begin to kick in. He takes my left hand and pets it like I’m his broken puppy.
Who gets to finally go skateboarding with a cute boy and ends up getting carted away in an ambulance? I’m a dick. A confused one. Because I was so caught up in our imminent adventure, I never thought to question why Jake asked me to go with him in the first place. We’re hardly on the best of terms. “Why did you ask me to the park with you?”
“I don’t know. Bored I guess. I might not like you that much, Mackenzie Valentine, but you sure are entertaining. Pretty to look at too.”
It actually felt like Jake and I were becoming friends, so his answer stings. I huff. “Well, your hair is too long. It makes you look like a hobo.” It doesn’t. It makes him look glorious, as if he were Tim Riggins stepping straight from Friday Night Lights and into real life. “And I don’t like you either.”
The ambulance takes a sharp turn. Jake grabs hold of his seat and grins down at me. “Yeah, I kinda worked that out already.”
JAKE
When we arrive at the hospital, Mac is whisked away for x-rays. With her gone, I expel a deep, fortifying breath and phone the Valentine household.
I’m barely given the chance to explain before the cavalry are in the car and on their way here. In what feels like minutes later, Steve, Jenna, Mitch, and Eli, descend on the hospital. I stand from my seat in the waiting room, the instinctive urge to run kicking in. I should have done it the moment I called them. Just left the hospital and never looked back. It was tempting. And easy. I’m only staying with them because the home I was boarding with lost their funding. Jenna’s taking me in a second time until she can find somewhere else for me to live.
I appreciate her help, even though I don’t need it. I have friends I can crash with until I’m old enough to get my own place. But the truth is that I wanted to see Mac again. Now that I have, I don’t want to leave, not until I have to, which isn’t the smartest decision I’ve ever made. Mac and her pack of brothers spell trouble. No sane person would deliberately pit themselves against any of them.
Yet here I am, feet planted to the floor, unable to move. It only proves my lack of sanity. My heart pounds as I face the fierce glowers bearing down upon me. I’ve broken their little girl. Vengeance will be had in one form or another, I’ve no doubt of that.
Steve Valentine, Mac’s dad, reaches me first. His presence is commanding, his body tall and wide. If you were able to choose your own father, he would be it. With sharp hazel eyes and dark brown hair, Steve is not the type of man who sits back and commands his troops. He’s the one who goes out first, leading himself into the heart of battle. Fearless, shrewd, brawny. He intimidates the hell out of me.
I straighten my shoulders.
“Romero,” Steve booms. People stop and stare at him for a moment. “Where’s my little girl?”
“X-ray, sir.”
His nostrils flare and he folds his arms—his silent, unhappy stance prompting me to add, “She’s fine. Just a fractured wrist and maybe some bruising.”
Jenna, Mitch, and Eli peel off down the hall, following the directions that lead to the x-ray room. Steve remains content to eyeball me. “Explain to me exactly what happened.”
“Mac tangled with a skateboard, sir.”
“And?”
“And the skateboard won.”
Steve draws in a deep breath. I watch his wide chest expand beneath his folded arms and wait for the explosion. “Whose idea was it to go skateboarding?”
“Mine.” I lift my chin, bracing for his anger. Only it doesn’t come. He chuckles softly instead. It leaves me baffled. “Sir?”
Steve grasps my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, a sharp one that has me wincing. Fucking ouch. “You’ll learn.”
“I’ll learn?”
He nudges my shoulder, pushing me into walking alongside him. “Trouble finds my daughter wherever she goes. Mackenzie is rash and irresponsible. I won’t have you encouraging her into any kind of risky activity. She does better at more simple activities, like reading or erm …” He clears his throat. “Well, reading is good.”
Is he serious? “That’s no way to live.”
Steve halts me in front of the hospital vending machine, his hazel eyes hardening fiercely. “Are you questioning my duty to keep my daughter safe?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” He gives my back a slap. Then he pulls out his wallet. He opens it, peels off a five dollar note, and tucks it into the top pocket of my shirt. “Here. Buy yourself something to eat.”
With a nod, he walks off down the same hallway toward the x-ray room.
I shake my head and turn back to the vending machine. After inserting the note, I choose a packet of salted peanuts. Mac likes them. I watched her snacking on them by the pool before she got beaned by the volleyball.
“Really?” Mitch’s voice behind me is packed with anger. “My little sister is lying in a hospital bed, bruised and broken because of you, and you’re out here worried about your stomach?”
My eyes close for a brief second. Princess, you better be worth it.
I collect the peanuts and turn. “Dramatic, much? She’s not on death’s door, Valentine. She has a fracture.”
The comment has Mitch visibly fuming. I cop a jab to the chest. “You need to stay away from Mac.”
I know that better than he does. But it’s too late. For some reason that knowledge has a grin tugging at the corners of my lips. I try fighting it, but not hard enough.
He fumes harder. “You think this is funny?”
“No. Actually, I agree with you. I need to stay away from your sister.”
Mitch’s eyes widen, clearly taken aback at my agreement. “Good.”
“The thing is…” I wave the peanuts in his face “…I don’t want to.”
And with that I walk off down the hall toward x-ray, whistling lightly and wondering at my own idiocy.
Clearly, I’m screwed, but what the hell, right? Life is meant for living and nothing makes me feel more alive than when I’m with Mac.