His First Crush Read online

  When she slowly moves her hands up, I have never been more grateful that she is so fucking innocent. Had she headed south, I would have come in my pants, or ripped her begging, little pussy apart.

  “And I thought how you said things are quieter with me.”

  And that does it. I let myself bitch out for one night. I will forever be haunted because of it.

  At the snap...Control it, Links, I tell myself.

  I redirect her play. “Well, right now, they’re harder.”

  She’s a fucking formative opponent. She covers my mouth with one hand while moving the other up a little farther. It feels really damn good to be touched like that, by someone who knows me. I don’t know if I’m okay with her being anything like the others or not.

  “I need you to be my friend, Logan, but I want to be able to do this, too. I don’t want the entire campus watching me or you, and I don’t want you to need anyone else but me.”

  Why in the fuck am I letting her control this?

  She presses her head against my chest, uncovers my mouth, and sighs. “I’ve come up with a plan...with conditions. If you can promise me that you won’t need anyone else while you’re here for the rest of this semester, I can promise you I won’t overthink it and that I won’t need a label or a commitment. I just need to put some limitations and—”

  Fuck this.

  “London.” I make her look at me now. “It goes against every natural, male instinct while fully and painfully erect to be one hundred percent honest, but I’m going to do my best.”

  Her eyes soften, and she looks ready for me to do this. For me to tell her what’s up and give it to her straight.

  “I have no fucking clue what I’m going to be doing when I’m done, and if I were you, I would not offer up something like that to me.”

  Un-fucking-real that those words just came out of my mouth!

  “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  “Love is unconditional,” she tells me.

  Not the fucking L word! No, nope, not gonna be like that.

  “I’ve come up with some conditions that makes this okay,” she continues.

  Lock it down, Links! Fuck...

  “I will promise that I won’t touch another, because I am going to explore every fucking inch of you to an almost indecent precision.”

  She nods, agreeing with me.

  Thank God!

  Then she starts talking. Again with the talking!

  “First condition, you gotta take it slow with me.”

  And back to the physical. Thankfully, I can handle that.

  “Oh, baby, it’s going to be so slow you’re going to throw one of those little fits because you’ll want my cock so bad.” I kiss her neck and inhale a scent that is her—sweet, cherry...mine.

  Her breath hitches, and my need increases.

  “Logan?”

  And...she’s talking again.

  I keep my lips on her neck, not backing down, and answer, “Yeah?”

  “The next conditions are: we don’t fall in love, we are honest with each other, and this doesn’t end badly. I need you in my life.”

  What she just said is everything I needed to hear, so why does my reply, “I promise,” taste a little bitter?

  “Logan?”

  She’s frustrating as hell, and I’m trying here, trying to give her what she needs, wants, asked for, but still...the damn talking.

  “Yeah?”

  She grabs my face between her hands and pulls me away from her neck. “Kiss me.”

  Game changer.

  Game. Change. Er.

  I’m at the line, the quarterback is yelling the play, and I’m restraining myself, waiting for the snap.

  Control. Know your opponent. Know your damn self.

  “You’re sure?” I ask.

  “It has to be you.”

  She’s one hundred percent right.

  I grab her face. “You’re damn right it does.”

  She closes her eyes, looking so fucking ready. So ready and needy. So ready and wanting. And now shit’s going off in my head, because this has to be right. It has to for her, and for me, and for the five weeks of hell I have endured away from her. Five fucking weeks that can’t happen again. But I have some conditions of my own.

  “London.”

  She opens her eyes, blinking as if the light hurts them, but it’s not the light. It’s the stall.

  I hold back. Needing, wanting, desiring to do the right fucking thing by her. This has to be perfect for her, which means I need to make sure I remove anything that will trigger me and make me become that dick. I just don’t want to be the one who oddly only she can make me.

  I push my forehead against hers and tell her, “I need you to do something for me first, and this is a deal breaker.”

  She nods.

  “You need to ask yourself a question.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you want your first kiss to end with murder and mayhem?”

  §

  A horn blows as Dad hits the brakes. I open my eyes as I grab the dash.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod, happy to be pulled from the thought of her.

  I hear a phone vibrate and reach into my pocket, only to realize I don’t have my phone. My phone was in my fucking truck. My truck’s in a goddamned building with a bunch of dead fucking bodies.

  “Logan?” Dad begins.

  I look over at Dad as I reach up and turn on the radio, not wanting to talk. “Bad At Love” by Halsey starts.

  I force myself to lean back and let the fucking truth in the words fuck me a little harder than life did tonight.

  I start to close my eyes then decide not to, looking out the window instead.

  When we pull into town, he turns right instead of left.

  I sit up and turn down the radio. “Just wanna go home.”

  “Not tonight, Logan.”

  “I’m not going there,” I snap.

  “Logan,” Tessa says quietly.

  “What?”

  “Logan...” Dad begins, telling me I crossed a fucking line.

  “Right now, I would like to be alone.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Tessa squeezes my shoulder. “But the police are going to be at Maddox and Harper’s in a few hours. It’ll be easier if you’re all together.”

  “You also don’t want the media showing up at the house. Chance and Hope?”

  Fuck, right, I think and then nod.

  “If they sit in the driveway, lights blazing on the house, or bang on the door, it’ll wake them up,” he continues.

  I nod my agreeance.

  “Don’t wanna draw them there,” I say on a sigh, pulling my hat down.

  “You wanna be alone after that, there’s always Doe Camp,” Tessa offers.

  “Sorry, baby, but he doesn’t need to be alone,” Dad tells her.

  “Yeah, I do,” I argue.

  “Let’s get through the next few days, okay? Then you have your apartments back in Syracuse.”

  Dad still has a few properties in the area, ones we have been working on for the past few years in summers and on breaks when we aren’t busy. It’s kind of a pet project.

  I have taken an interest in green energy and, as usual, he figured out a way for me to explore something I am interested in. When I decided a few weeks ago to continue my education, Dad and I discussed me taking it over, living in it, managing it, renting out some of the units that are finished. I agreed. Now I’m not even sure I want to fucking be here. But right now, I’m not going to say shit, because I’m not a total dick. I know he just got Ava back here, and if I tell him I want to jet, it’s going to fuck with him. Last night, today—we have all been fucked with enough.

  When Dad laughs uncomfortably, I look at him.

  “What?”

  “Well, you’re gonna have to get a new vehicle before you go back to ‘Cuse. Your truck is all sorts of fucked up.” Then he laughs out loud, causing Tessa to giggle before coverin
g her mouth to stop it.

  I look at her, and she shakes her head, mumbling, “Sorry.”

  Takes me a minute to respond, but the truth is, I did fuck it up.

  “No need to be sorry. It’s not everyday someone purposely runs into a building.”

  Dad chuckles, but it’s forced.

  I look at him, seeing his jaw is taut.

  I know I am owed a lecture, so fuck it, I open that door. “What?”

  “Dumb fucking move, Logan. You could have been killed. That fucker could have shot you. As your father, I want to tell you what an asshole, fucking stunt that was.”

  I nod once. “I get it.”

  “And as someone who loves London,” Tessa says, bringing my attention to her, ready to tell her I don’t love her, that love is as fucked up as my truck. But then she places a hand over her heart, and I realize she’s talking about herself. “From the bottom of my heart, Logan, thank you for helping her.”

  I nod once then turn away from her. I see Dad give me a sideways glance.

  “When shit calms down, I’d love to know how you knew where she was.”

  “Maddox called,” I tell him, not wanting to revisit it later.

  “How the hell did he know where she was?” he asks.

  I keep my eyes focused forward, not answering him.

  “Maddox and Brody have their ways, Lucas,” Tessa says quietly.

  “That include my son?” he says with some bitterness.

  “Dad,” I warn.

  “Fine.” He sighs.

  I don’t tell him it had nothing to do with Brody, that it was all Maddox and that bracelet she wears—the way he tracks her. The way I always knew where she was...from him.

  When we pull down the drive, passing Dad and Tessa’s place, heading down the dirt road to Maddox and Harper’s, the sun is rising behind it. I glance at the dash and see that it’s almost five in the morning. I have been up for twenty-four fucking hours.

  When I woke up yesterday morning, made reservations to fly home, cleaned up a little at Ava’s place, then later took a cab to JFK to catch a flight home, I had plans, big plans, that included the big fucking butterflies in my damn stomach. I planned on surprising her, then listening to her yell at me for not messaging or calling for the past few weeks, and then kissing her to shut her up. I planned on telling London that she and I would be extending cuddle season until we got sick of each other, hoping like hell we wouldn’t, yet fearing the bullshit first loves entail.

  Instead, the day ended in murder and mayhem.

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  Rocker House

  Logan

  I don’t want to see her. I sure as hell shouldn’t want to anyway. But when we walk into the quiet house, where Maddox and Brody are at the large kitchen island, both their noses glued to their computers, no doubt looking at news footage and she’s not there, I wonder where she is.

  In fact, I walk past them to use the bathroom, just so I can look into the family room to see if she is in there. She is. So is Ava, Harper, and Emma.

  “Loggie,” Ava says, beckoning me.

  London’s head is on Emma’s lap and her eyes are opened. The sadness in them fucking hurts my heart and makes it pump harder, faster.

  “Excuse us,” comes from behind me.

  I turn around and see Jamie and Christy walking toward the living room.

  “Where’s Lisa?” I ask.

  “With her parents. She’ll be here at one when the cops come,” Jamie tells me.

  “Logan,” Ava says again.

  I nod toward the hall. “Gonna use the bathroom.”

  After pissing, I look in the mirror. I’m wrecked and in need of a shower after the gym.

  When I walk out, I again try to skirt past the living room, when Ava calls my name.

  I walk in and kiss her head. “I’m fine. Just take care of that one.” I nod to London who appears to be sleeping, I know she’s not. Walking out of the room I tell them, “I’m gonna run up to Dad’s and shower.”

  “You can shower here,” Ava says, trying to sound sweet, but I know that tone. She’s demanding.

  “I’ll grab something of Maddox’s for you to throw on.” Harper stands. “The guest rooms are set up for the girls. They’ve all decided to share one. You can have the other. The bathroom is—”

  “I’m fine.” I try to sound appreciative.

  “It’s no problem,” Harper says, quickly exiting the room.

  Ava stands up and walks over to me. I still haven’t made it out of the room any farther and I don’t want to go back in. I’m afraid to get any closer to her. I’m not sure if the tightening in my chest is pain or anger.

  Ava hugs me. “You scared me last night.”

  “It’s payback,” I tell her, and she looks up in shock. “Don’t look at me like that. You know how fucked up we’ve been over you.”

  Her bottom lip pouts out a bit. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay.” She pauses then whispers, “Right?”

  I nod and hug her back. “Yeah, Ava, no matter what hell we Links walk through, we always come out looking ahead for the next...” I stop because I want to say shitshow, hurt, disappointment, blow, but I can’t, not to Ava.

  “Next?” she asks as London and the girls walk past us. She doesn’t even look at me.

  “Adventure, Ava. Life is full of adventures.” I try to sound like it’s a joke, but it’s not. “You should go home; get some sleep. My niece and nephew are gonna need their mom when they wake up.”

  “I really want to stay with you,” she states.

  I shake my head. “I’m good. Not even a scratch. I’ll stop over tomorrow if the media isn’t around town.”

  “And if they are, we’ll come back here.” Ava hugs me tighter.

  “Dad and Tessa’s,” I tell her.

  She looks up at me with hell in her eyes. She wants to say something she knows will piss me off, push my buttons. She wants to call me out on the London and me thing.

  “Ava, not now. But any other time you feel the need to be your old self—”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She tries to act shocked.

  “You know damn well what that means. Bossy, pushy, nosey, Ava-ey,” I remind her.

  She smiles and sighs as she hugs me tightly again. “I’m back, Logan, and if I wasn’t, I would have driven here from Brooklyn last night to make sure you’re okay.”

  I nod, not too sure I believe it.

  I walk back out to the kitchen where Dad, Brody, and Maddox are all talking quietly. I look at them all. Dad and Brody looked pissed. Maddox looks impassive.

  “Anything new?” I ask.

  “Get some sleep.” Maddox grips my shoulder. “Plenty of time to chat later.”

  Sleep, I think as I walk down the hall toward the guest room, not knowing if it’s at all possible.

  Harper walks out of the bathroom, saying, “Fresh towels are in the bathroom. Clothes are in the bedroom.”

  “Wasn’t necessary, but appreciated,” I tell her and start to walk past her.

  She shocks me by wrapping her arms around me and hugging me. “I’m so glad you’re okay. And Logan, I know it was Maddox who told you where she was, but”—she looks up at me with tears in her eyes—“I love you, and if something had happened to you...”

  I give her a hug back. “It’s all good, Harper.”

  “Get some sleep, okay, little brother?” She steps back and smiles sadly. “You two—”

  I shake my head. I don’t want to hear about me and her.

  She nods. “Thank you for making sure she got out alive.”

  I nod. “You should get some sleep, too.”

  Standing in the shower, I think of how messed up it is that my stepsister is also a second cousin to the girl I told I loved not too long ago. Not only is she that, but she’s married to London’s stepbrother.

  London’s been really fucking wrong about a lot of things but keeping shit quiet from our families i
sn’t one of them. Now, though, Dad knows something’s up. Maddox and Ava know, too. So that means Tessa, Harper, and Luke probably do, as well.

  At least they all know I haven’t fucked her, I think as I shut off the shower, grab a towel, and then step out.

  Looking in the mirror as I towel off my hair, I think about the night she walked in after Thanksgiving, after all hell broke loose about Ava’s babies, my niece’s and nephew’s paternity. The night I decided there was no damn way I was going to keep playing grab-ass with her.

  I had decided she would hate that I would stick up for Ava, regardless of what went down. Then she—London—would be stuck deciding on Team Thomas or Team Luke, inevitably choosing anyone but Ava. I couldn’t do that to Ava or London if things got any deeper between us.

  She demanded I stick to the deal, even though I had every intention of sabotaging it by breaking every “condition” we had come up with by being with someone else.

  I was so glad she pushed me—was—until she fucking kissed him.

  Technically, she didn’t break any sort of agreement. The conditions were through the fall semester. But what she did break was a part of me. A very raw, very guarded part of me I never intended to reveal.

  I wrap the towel around my waist and look at the two doors in the Jack and Jill bathroom, realizing I have no clue which room I’m supposed to take.

  Of course I open the wrong fucking one. Luckily, I’m wrapped in a damn towel.

  I quickly close it and head to the other.

  When I walk in, I see something outside the French doors. Fucking media, no doubt, has found us here.

  When we were kids, Mom and Dad used to keep us away from all the shit that came with Brody’s and Maddox’s stardom. I was glad. I mean, yeah, I’m well-known in this area, but not around the world, and that kind of attention is not something I want.

  London, I think of all she has been through with the attention. Hell, she doesn’t even see how almost perfect she is. Then I get pissed when I hear a noise outside. Neither she nor the girls need this shit today.

  I open the door and step out. “Who the fuck is out here?”

  “Shhh...” I hear and look in the corner where London is sitting wrapped in a blanket.