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For the girls . . . For Juliet, who thinks everyone deserves a white picket fence, For Fallon, who thinks that if we know what we really want, then there is no choice, And for Tate, who knows that fighting with someone isn’t half as satisfying as fighting for them. Carry on, ladies.
In the eight months since we’d gotten together, I’d become very adept at swallowing my drool before it seeped out of my mouth. Luckily, he looked at me the same way.
He touched me even when he couldn’t reach me. He whispered in my ear from twenty feet away. And I could always feel his lips even when we were apart.
“If I ever lay my hands on you,” I whispered his same words to me from all those months ago, “you’ll want it.” He let out a quiet laugh as his lips grazed mine. I cocked my head, playing with him. “Do you?” I prompted. “Want it, I mean?” He cupped my face with both hands and begged, “Yes.” And then he snatched up my lips. “Hell yes.” And I melted. I always melted.
Women didn’t want to tell you what was wrong flat out. Oh, no. It couldn’t be that easy. You had to get a shovel and dig it out of them.
“When you think about the women who aren’t interested in my brother, it pretty much just leaves the lesbians.”
I missed being the breath in someone’s body and being craved like water.
I still loved her. I’d only ever wanted her.
“Tatum Brandt loves one person. You. She will always love you.” His threatening growl was almost a whisper. “She breathes for you, no matter how much she denies it or tries to hide it.”
Tate was right. The game had changed. She had no idea.
At ten years old, Jared was my friend. At fourteen, my enemy; at eighteen, my lover; and at twenty, my heartbreak.
“There’s only one race I’ll take, but I’m not sure she’s ready to give me what I want.”
“Jared, though?” she chirped over the music, cutting off my train of thought. “I can imagine that relationship threw you on the ground and fucked the daylights out of you, huh?” I turned my wide eyes on her, barely noticing Jaeger’s car zooming past me. “Metaphorically speaking, of course,” she added. I breathed out a nervous laugh, stunned into silence. I had to hand it to her. She was bold.
I’m not going to kill her. I won’t hurt her. But I was going to do things to her. I slammed my helmet down on the handle bar. Lots of fun things.
She belonged to me. I was built for her.
“You liked my conversational skills when we were alone well enough,” I pointed out, continuing as I enunciated every word. “In the car, on top of the car, in my shower, in your bed”—I got in her face, growling—“on nearly every floor in nearly every room of your house, you loved my conversational skills then.”
I’m a better man, but there’s never been a better woman for me. There’s never been anyone like you, he texted.
I want to crush his fucking hands when he touches you. But honestly . . . , he continued, it’s a hell of a turn-on watching another man have what I want.
“I said I would be back for you. You know there’s only me, Tate,” he pushed. “No one else can give you this.”
“Everywhere you kiss her,” Jared belted out to us from behind—and I noticed bystanders turning to look—“just remember that my tongue was there first.”
“Does she still like it in the morning?” he taunted. “That’s when she has the most energy.” I lost my composure, mortified at what he was doing. What the hell? The bystanders oohed and giggled. Jared’s smirk was vile, and I arched an eyebrow, feeling Ben tense next to me as Jared tried to educate him. Telling him all the ways he knew me. I squeezed my fists and walked up to Jared slowly. I let my smile show through my eyes as I whispered. “He knows when I like it, Jared.” It was a lie, but Jared didn’t know that. His smirk slowly fell, and the rage in his eyes was evident, even though his face
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“A man who stands in front of a woman does nothing more than block her view. She needs a man standing next to her, so grow up.”
“I’m never letting you go again, Tate,” I whispered, almost desperate. “I’m your friend forever, and if that’s all I get, then that’s what I’m taking, because only when you’re here”—I took her hand and placed it on my heart—“do I feel like my life is worth a damn.”
Patience and peace radiated off of him, and my heart skipped a beat, finally feeling some semblance of home for the first time in forever. It was a summer day just like any other, and the boy next door was hanging out with me.
“I never wanted other women.” His thick voice was practically a whisper. “I left so I could be a man for you. So I could come back to you.”
A flutter swarmed through my chest, and I knew that my heart still wanted him, too. No one else had even held a candle to him.
Madoc tuned the iPod to Mötley Crüe’s “Girls, Girls, Girls,” and I looked at him. He shrugged, looking innocent. “Don’t look at me. It’s on your iPod, man.”
“Take the week,” I told her. “Go to your job. Read your books. Take a great big swim in Lake You,” I teased, walking up her porch stairs. “And if, at the end of the week, you’re ready to give me this,” I turned her around and placed my hand on her heart, “then I’ll take this.” And I slid my hand between her legs, holding her pussy.
“You let women sit downstairs, right?” I inquired. “If we decided to watch the female dancers later on, I mean.” He raised his eyebrows, amused. “We love our female customers,” he played. “No matter what turns them on.” I straightened. Yeah, I didn’t mean that really, but okay.
“Nothing feels right without you. Not school or home,” I cried. “Everything is just giving me enough air to get to the next day without you. I never stopped being yours.” He dropped his head back, letting out a sigh. I swallowed, taking my chance. “I love you, Jared. I’ve always loved you, and I will always love you.” There was no one but him, and even when he wasn’t around, he was. I would never be free of him—because I didn’t want to be.
Tatum Brandt loved me, and I was never letting her go again. “I know what I want,” she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I know where I’m going. I know what I stand for, and I don’t do things that I don’t want to do.” She turned me around, her eyes holding me still. “And even so, without you in my life, I’m not happy. For better or worse, you’ve been my other half since I was ten years old, and I can’t imagine a future I’d want without you in it. You’re the love of my life.”
“Can we just skip to the end?” I asked softly. “I’m tired of missing you, Tate.”
“Fuck me, Tate,” I breathed out, begging against her mouth. “Fuck me like you hate me.”
“Come on,” I urged, feeling her hair and her sweat graze my fingers on her back. “I want you spread for me on the hood, so I can taste how wet you are.”
She lay back, bringing her knees up and closing her legs. But I shot out, grabbing her knees and spreading her thighs wide. “You just screwed me like an animal that couldn’t get enough,” I teased, loving the sight of her plump breasts ready and waiting. “Don’t get modest now.”
Leaning down, I pressed my tongue onto her wet clit and moved in quick circles, massaging her, because I knew exactly what she liked but was afraid to ask for. Tate liked my tongue. She didn’t want fingers as much as that, and even though I was doing this to her—licking and flicking and fucking her with my mouth—I was doing this for me. It was such a simple act, but nothing we ever did together was simple. It was a moment in an ocean of moments that kept us alive from one minute to the next, and it was heaven.
“Whose home?” I kissed her nose. “Ours.”
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it. Jared devoured me like food. No one loved me like he did, and I lived him. And loved him.
I exist as I am, that is enough. Right there, my quote inscribed over his heart. Happy tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. He’d remembered the poem.
“Twelve years,” I continued, “and I have never stopped wanting you, Tate. Not for a single day have I been free of you.”
“And it’ll make you feel really feminine in front of the huge crowd and their phone cameras,” I went on, talking to his back. “And it’ll be a superinteresting story—if not a little unmanly—to tell our children someday. And my father will probably lose all respect for you, but when I get down on one knee, baby,” I teased, “you’re just going to melt and swoon.”
Damn, he was hot. I couldn’t see him through his blacked-out windows, but he was still managing to turn me the hell on.
“It’s you. It’s only you. You’re the only one who challenges me, so challenge me! Don’t hold back. I trust you.”
“You’re written all over my body,” he spoke low, just for us. “The tattoos can never be erased. You hold my heart, and you can never be replaced.”
“I only live when I’m with you, and I’m asking for your heart, your love, and your future.” He smiled. “Will you please be my wife?”
“As my friend, I liked you,” I whispered. “As my enemy, I craved you. As a fighter, I loved you, and as my wife”—I slid the ring the rest of the way on—“I keep you.” I squeezed her hand. “Forever,” I promised.
“When you left me the first time, I was devastated,” she said, speaking of when we were fourteen. “And when you left me the second time, I was defiant. But both times I regret,” she admitted, keeping her voice low. “I always fought with you instead of fighting for you, and if I commit to doing one thing differently for the rest of our lives, Jared”—she inhaled a deep breath, steadying her voice—“it would be to make sure you always know that I will fight for you.” She blinked, sending more tears down her cheeks. “Forever.”
