Chapter One
Brynn
It was pitch black in that closet, so the only thing I had to go off of was the feel of his body against mine.
"I can't believe we're doing this," I hiccupped. I was way more drunk than I should be, but not so drunk that I couldn't feel every goddamn thing he was doing to me down there. And I wasn't so drunk that I didn't know that this was a terrible idea that would probably ruin our friendship, but fuck it, I was definitely too drunk to stop now.
Too drunk on what he was doing to me.
"Jesus!" I gasped as my back slammed into the back wall of the closet, sending wire hangers jingling. I was gasping and it had nothing to do with the airless claustrophobia of the closet or the hanging coats that kept swinging into my face. No, I was gasping because holy shit, how was this guy, of all people, burying his face between my legs right now, and how the fuck was he so... good?
"We shouldn't be..." I was going to say...something, about how this was a terrible idea, but I shut my damn mouth right then and there because he was doing something with his fingers that made spots swim before my eyes. I sagged downward and he caught me with his hands, were his hands always this strong and I hadn't noticed until right now? Just like I had never noticed how fucking sexy he was all those years he was hanging out with my brother and being the straight-laced, stick-up-his-butt Boy Scout in the group. I always thought he was a prude.
I was never so happy to be dead wrong about a person.
Breaths, gasps, the greedy muffled sounds he was making down there, I grabbed hold of the closet pole, sending the wire hangers jingling and then shushed myself, but that shush turned into a hiss and suddenly I didn't give a fuck anymore because if anyone flung that coat closet open right now, they would see me having the best fucking orgasm of my entire life. I didn't give a fuck that night...
And I didn't give a fuck right now as I squeezed my eyes shut against the memory.
"Fuck," I hissed, moving the vibrator faster. It had been over a year now, but the memory of that mistaken night was the only thing that could reliably get me off.
I arched my back, ready for the climax, when a loud shrieking scrape made me scream and tumble off the side of my bed.
"What the fuck?" I yelled. As if my empty house would answer.
My heart thudded in my throat. I yanked up my schlubby old gym shorts, blushing at the dampness between my legs and stood up straight, listening.
Was that crack a footstep? Was something outside?
I opened my bedroom door. My cat looked up at me reproachfully from where he lay sprawled on the hallway floor, still lying where I'd thrown him when I kicked him out of my bed. Sure I lived alone, but some things are private, okay?
"It's probably a deer," I told Mr. Stevens. "Down in the underbrush by the gully."
He blinked at me, then we both jumped as the harsh metallic scrape sounded again. Mr. Stevens took that opportunity to bolt into my bedroom and launch himself onto my bed where he sat disdainfully licking a paw.
"That sounded like Freddy Krueger trying to tear the siding off," I whispered.
When the realtor showed me this place on Gibson Street, a short little dead end dirt road on the very edge of town, I jumped on it. It was the perfect setting, walkable to Main Street but it backed up to the creek as it dipped and dove and twisted its way into the lake. My house was the only one on this side of the street because of the way the creek sheared off the land at a diagonal and across the way were two vacation houses owned by out-of-towners who I hadn't met yet. Reckless Creek was the natural boundary of our town, and on the other side the woods stretched out.
Here on Gibson Street, I woke to birdsong instead of the sound of my father's bar opening up. It was heaven-on-earth I was sure of it. But right now...
"Fuck, did you hear that?" I whispered to Mr. Stevens. My cat stared back with wide saucer eyes, so he must have. "It sounds like someone is trying to tear a hole in my house. Should I call the police?"
Mr. Stevens gave a short little purry-mew and jumped down from my bed to wind between my ankles.
"Okay but you know it's going to be Gabe Foster who comes out. And he'll give me epic amounts of shit if it turns out to be nothing," I huffed. Gabe was one of those guys I'd hung out with in high school while I'd gone through my "I'm-not-like-other-girls" phase, and it was frankly embarrassing to think of him showing up here now to see me all girly freaked out.
Mr. Stevens coiled his tail around my calf and meowed at me.
"That's a good point," I nodded. "Cal will know what to do." I grabbed my phone off my bed and dialed my brother's number. Then I did a doubletake to see my vibrator still sitting there accusingly. I shoved it under my sheets right as Callum picked up his end.
"Hey Brynn," my big brother answered in an explosive sigh.
Panic was making my skin prickle along my hairline, but I still had to force myself to be polite. To be nice. It was a habit I couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried. "You sound exhausted," I observed, the very model of sisterly concern.
Cal stifled a yawn, making his voice go all funny. "Last night was my shift with Ellie."
I grinned at my niece's name, then winced. "She's still not sleeping the night?"
"She sleeps in the day," Cal grumbled. "I think she's a vampire."
There, I'd asked two questions about his life, now... "Cal, there's a weird noise outside," I whined. "Sounds like a giant angry clawed beast trying to scrape off my siding."
"You have any trees that need to be trimmed?" Cal asked immediately, ever practical.
"It's in different places."
"What about mice?"
"This is way louder than any mice could hope to be."
"You sure about that?" my brother asked. "They can make the house sound like it's falling down."
"I don't think it's mice. Mr. Stevens is scared, not interested."
"Your cat is useless."
"You shut your mouth about my baby," I huffed, then sighed. "I'm honestly a little freaked out."
"Do you want to call the police?"
"Gabe Foster."
"Point taken," Cal rumbled. He'd always hated that guy, "Well I'd come by, Brynny, but I live twenty minutes away from you. Maybe Dad could get there faster?"
I considered as I walked around the downstairs, checking out the windows. "Dad would show up with his gun all ready to defend his daughter, get all worked up and probably shoot himself in the process."
"Yeah that's true," Cal mused. Then his voice softened. "Are you really freaked out?"
I took a deep breath. There were only two people in the world I would ever let myself be vulnerable around. One was my friend Autumn who'd seen me at my very worst when my mom disappeared. And the other was my brother. "Yeah, Cal," I sighed. "It's probably nothing but I'm a little freaked out."
"Okay," he said. There was a thump and then a wail. "I have to go, Ellie just did...something loud, but I'll see what I can do about getting it checked out, okay sis?"
I grinned. "Thanks Cal. Go kiss my niece for me."
"Okay," he said hurriedly. There was a scrabbling sound at the other end, then the far off sound of him comforting his daughter. I listened for a second, then realizing he wasn't hanging up, I hung up myself and sat back down on the bed, barely daring to breathe I was listening so hard.
Silence reigned now. Of course. After a moment, my breathing evened and I lay back on the bed. This was not at all what I had envisioned for the night before the last day of school. I had a whole long to-do list, a party to plan for my kindergartners, a little graduation ceremony. And then a long summer stretched out ahead of me, the first one I wasn't spending working a second job to save for a house. No, I had my house now and my time was my own, and how was I spending it?
Pleasuring myself to the memory of New Year's Eve over a year ago. And the hottest, rawest, realest sex I'd had in ages. Perhaps ever.
Idly my fingers trailed back under the sheets. When they closed on the vibrator, I let out a heavy sigh. Then I froze in place. Was that another noise? I poked my head out of the bedroom. "Did you hear that?" I asked Mr. Stevens. Yes, that was definitely the sound of booted feet on my wooden porch. A dull, hollow sound.
"Who is that?" I called, trying to sound bad ass, but my voice quavered and came out in a croaking whisper. There was no answer except for the sound of footsteps retreating back off my porch. I stepped forward, then froze again to hear a stick break outside of the bathroom window. Whoever it was was walking around my outside of my house.
"Who the fuck is that?" I yelled out the window, but there was still no answer. I rushed down the stairs, then stopped. Where the hell had I left my phone? Why did not have a landline to call 911? What the hell was wrong with me?
There were the boot sounds on my porch again. I grabbed a butcher knife from the block in my small kitchen and went to the door, clutching it to my chest. Taking a deep breath, I threw open the door and let out a high-pitched war cry as I launched myself at the dark silhouette on my steps.
The intruder let out a soft grunt that sounded vaguely familiar as he ducked away from my attack. "Brynn!" he growled, snapping his hand around my wrist. My body was suddenly responding before my mind caught up. My cheeks caught fire and I yanked my hand away, gasping, and the way he looked at me, I swore he knew exactly what I was doing before he got here...exactly what memory I'd been reliving. How else had he just shown up here looking rumpled and disheveledly sexy on my doorstep ten minutes after I'd climaxed screaming his name?
I screamed it again, but this time I gave him a shove for good measure. "Everett McCabe! What the fuck are you doing here?!"