As I step out into the garage, a seriously cut guy with tattoos covering his chest and right arm steps toward me. “You must be Jane.”
I nod and lift a hand to wave at him because he’s kind of got me speechless. Wow. That’s a lot of muscle and a lot of ink. And is that a nipple piercing?
He plucks my hand out of the air and brings it to his lips, dropping a kiss onto the top of my knuckles. His smile is cocky and playful as he continues to hold my hand but stands straighter.
“You must be one of the brothers,” I say, finally finding my voice.
“The best Holland brother, or so I’ve been told.” Then he freaking winks. I’m ninety-percent sure he’s fucking around to piss off Hendrick, but I don’t get the dynamic here at all or what role I’m playing in it.
Hendrick gets to his feet. “Ignore Knox. The rest of us do.”
Knox drops my hand and steps back. He leans down, showing me more ink on his back, to grab a T-shirt off the floor. Pulling it over his head, he covers himself and then runs a hand through his hair. It’s lighter than Hendrick’s and Archer’s, a sort of dark blond, almost. It’s cut short on the sides and back, but thick and wavy on top. He looks like trouble. I think he is trouble. In fact, I think he thrives on it.
“Thanks for the workout, Henny.” He winks at me again. “Later, Hollywood.”
He disappears inside, leaving me and Hendrick alone, but the air is still thick with sweat and testosterone.
“Sorry about him,” he says, and suddenly I’m all too aware that more than one of the two brothers was out here shirtless.
Where Knox was lean and cut, Hendrick is broader. He still has a whole lot of defined muscle, but he’s bigger, more filled out. I watch a trickle of sweat disappear down his pecs along the faint line of light brown hair that continues down and soaks into the band of his shorts.
I snap my gaze up before I do something really stupid like lick him.
“It’s okay.” My voice is too high and too strained. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m sorry I passed out in your bed. I think I drooled on your pillow.”
One side of his mouth lifts in a smile. “It’s fine. I imagine rest is the best thing after something traumatic like that.”
At his words, all the fear and anxiety from today resurfaces. “Did Archer and Brogan find out anything about the guy that was following me?”
“Let’s talk inside.”
I follow him back into the house. The main living area is vacant, but music from opposite sides of the house competes, indicating at least two of his brothers are home.
He opens the door to his room and lets me go ahead of him. “Give me just a minute.”
He closes me in alone. While I wait, I pull out my phone. I texted the girls when we got here earlier to let them know I wouldn’t be home for a while. I wasn’t ready to tell them what happened because I knew they’d want to rush over, and they’d have lots of questions. They have sent a series of texts back since then. Dahlia says Felix is staying over at the house, but my pillow fort is available, Jordan and Daisy are having a movie night, and Vi is sleeping over at Gavin’s.
Hendrick returns wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, hair wet, and smelling like soap.
“So . . .” I start. “What’d you find out?”
His expression is guarded, but he clearly has something to tell me, and I can’t figure out why he’d possibly be holding back now. How much worse could it get?
“Your silence is freaking me out. Just tell me.”
With a sigh, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card before handing it to me.
I take it and smooth out the crumpled paper.
“Roger Brayson, Independent Photographer.” My stomach drops as I read it aloud. I read it three more times unnecessarily.
“He was . . .” I trail off, feeling sick.
“Paparazzi. Yeah. Archer and Brogan talked to him. He was trying to get some new photographs without you realizing who he was.”
I huff a short laugh. “Mission accomplished. I thought . . . I thought he was chasing me.”
“He was fucking chasing you.” Hendrick’s jaw tightens.
“I’m so stupid.” I stand, still holding the card. I ran and I freaking hid like a serial killer was after me, and he just wanted some photos. Embarrassed tears threaten, but I will them back. “I can’t believe this. I have myself so worked up that something is going to happen that I’m inventing bad guys. I’m officially losing my mind.”
I aimlessly walk around the room as I let the full reality of it all settle in. For weeks I’ve been on edge, letting some random incident freak me out, but I am done with it. I want to go home, sleep in my own room, and wake up tomorrow ready to put this all behind me.
“I am so embarrassed. I made you come save me from a guy with a camera. And I know this guy.” I hold up the card. “He’s been here since last semester. I was just so panicked when I thought someone was following me.”
Hendrick steps in front of me and places both hands on my face. I look up and into his intense hazel eyes. “Listen to me. Some guy you didn’t recognize was tailing you around campus when you were alone. You did the right thing by calling me. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I try to pull away, but he won’t let me.
“Say it,” he says, eyes darting to my mouth. “Say it, Jane.”
“I did the right thing.”
“You did,” he says, like he doesn’t think I believe my own words. I’m not sure I do either. “I don’t care if the guy is harmless or if it’s a little girl selling cookies, someone makes you feel uncomfortable, then you call me.”
I don’t understand him. Even if what he’s saying is true, why does he feel some sort of duty to make sure I’m okay after I got him fired?
“Why haven’t you left town yet?”
“I don’t know.” His gaze drops to my lips again.
Understanding seeps in slowly. I didn’t read him wrong. Some part of him wanted me that night at the party. Some part of him still wants me.
So tired of feeling scared and anxious and like my world is in chaos, I do the thing I wanted to do weeks ago—I lean in to kiss him. Stopping millimeters from his lips, I glance up, giving him time to stop me. My heart beats rapidly in the seconds I wait for any reaction from him. And just when I think we’re going to be locked in a stare-off until I make a move, he cups the back of my head and guides my lips to his in a crushing kiss.
My hands loop around his neck, and he scoops my legs out from under me, encouraging me to wrap them around his waist. He carries me to the bed and lays me down, kissing me the entire time.
He holds most of his weight off me, but I pull him down tighter against me. Our bodies align so well, like we were both made for this exact position.
As his tongue sweeps into my mouth, one hand slides under my sweatshirt and rests on my stomach. Calloused and rough fingers caress me softly and cause a shiver to roll through me. He kisses exactly like I thought he would: dominating and powerful.
I lift my hips, searching for him to ease the throbbing between my legs. With a low grunt, he presses into me, giving me the friction I crave. I’m all passion and need, clawing to get him closer and grinding against him unapologetically.
When he pulls away, I could cry with frustration. His brow is creased but his eyes are filled with so much want it makes my pulse quicken.
“Don’t stop,” I plead.
After another beat of hesitation, he moves his free hand down to cup me through my jeans. His thumb strokes up and down the seam, digging in with the perfect pressure to send my body soaring toward release.
He keeps a steady, slow pace that matches the rhythm his tongue sweeps over mine. No matter how hard I try to go faster, to pull him past the line of control, he doesn’t let me. It’s maddening. And pure bliss.
And longer, and sooner, than I want, the ache in my body turns into a tingling sensation that I feel everywhere. I moan and scream into his mouth as I come, and he swallows my cries as he keeps kissing me like he’s not even close to done with me.
I reach for the button of his jeans at the same time a heavy thud followed by voices breaks the bubble we’re in.
Hendrick sits back, lips wet and eyes dark. “Archer and Brogan are home,” he says as he stands and runs a thumb over his mouth.
“I can be quiet.” That’s a lie. I don’t even want to try to be quiet with him.
“We should talk.”
“O-kay. Talk first.”
“Not here.” He grabs his keys from the top of the dresser. “Let’s go for a drive.”
Once we’re buckled in Hendrick’s truck, he pulls away from the house. One orgasm did nothing but amplify my feelings for him. And right now, those feelings are all about sex.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my fingers crossed that it’s to buy condoms. A whole bunch of them.
“I’m taking you home.”
“Home?” Maybe he wants more privacy to continue what we started. God, I hope so.
His gaze leaves the road to look at me briefly. “What happened back there? That can’t happen again.”
Well, that pours icy cold disappointment over my excitement.
“Are you serious right now?” Just when a girl thinks she can’t be any more humiliated. I don’t understand him and I’m too angry to ask. It doesn’t matter. Today has been too long to put up with this shit. “Stop the truck. I can walk home from here.”
His hard stare remains forward on the road. “You’re not walking, and we need to talk.”
“I have nothing else to say to you.”
I try the door handle, but it’s locked.
“What, are you going to jump out?” he asks, one brow cocked all smug-like.
“Stop the damn truck, Hendrick!” I yell.
He slows and pulls along the curb. I find the unlock button and have my door open and I’m jumping out before he’s come to a complete stop. I storm onto the sidewalk and start walking.
He climbs out and comes around the front of the truck. “You’re going the wrong direction.”
Crap, he’s right. Without commenting, I turn and start toward home. He moves to stand in my path. “Will you stop and listen to me?”
I brush past him with my middle finger raised. Petulant? Probably. But god, it feels good. I want to rage on someone for all the madness happening lately. Why can’t I just find a nice guy and be a regular college girl like all my friends? Why did I have to announce to the world that I was Ivy Greene? Why, why, why?! Oh yeah, because I thought I could merge my two worlds without any consequences. Stupid me.
“Dammit, Jane.” His fingers wrap around my upper arm. “I can’t make sure you’re safe if I’m distracted all the time. Which is what I’ll be if we start sleeping together.”
Well, that’s not what I expected. I spin on him. “What are you talking about? You’re not even my bodyguard anymore.”
“But I should be.”
Wait, what?
“You and I both know you need someone looking after you.”
“Why? The thing at my house and today, they weren’t anything.”
“I’m not even sure you believe that. If you did, you wouldn’t have been so scared today.”
My stomach dips with the same anxiety I’ve been feeling all month. “It’s been a lot lately. That’s all. I’ve been anxious and emotional, and I let it impact my judgment.”
I hate admitting that. I feel like an idiot for letting myself get so caught up in things that I couldn’t discern what was happening.
“Your judgment is just fine. You trusted your gut, like you should.”
“I wasn’t in danger.” I throw my hands up in the air.
“Maybe not, but something was off, and you felt it.” He blows out a breath. “You’re dealing with a lot, that’s true. Way more than any of your friends, and yet you’re still trying to pretend that your life should look the same as theirs. You’re not like everyone else. For better or worse, you need someone looking out for you. Let me be that person.”
A small part of me wants to immediately say yes, but it feels so unnecessary.
His gaze pleads with me as much as his words. “I’ll be invisible, just like before.”
“It’s an illusion of normalcy,” I reply quietly. “I never should have told everyone that I’m Ivy. Things were going just fine before then.”
He stays quiet, letting me deal with the consequences of my actions.
It’s either let him follow me around or spend my days looking over my shoulder. Or I guess I could call Grady. All three options make me want to stomp my feet in frustration.
“Fine. You can have your job back, but only so that I can get back to some semblance of a typical college existence.” I look him over. He’s devastating in his simple jeans and T-shirt. “You fit in a whole hell of a lot better than Grady.”
He smiles, looking like I just took a weight off his shoulders instead of handing him the job of keeping me safe. “You won’t even know I’m there.”
That seems highly unlikely.
