Page 123 of Stolen Summer

I swallowed the instant apology that sprang to my lips. I had nothing to be sorry for. My chin lifted. “I didn’t realize you were otherwise…occupied,” I said, making the sarcasm thick and undeniable in my tone.

“I’m not. Trish was just leaving.” He jerked his head toward the door, indicating for the girl to leave.

Who the fuck was Trish? Not that I had any business asking. Crew and I weren’t together, but it didn’t stop the red-hot streak of jealousy from slashing through me. At least he knew her name. Was that a good thing or not?

God, when had I become so possessive of a guy who wasn’t mine?

Trish pushed to her feet, unbothered by Crew’s gruff tone. “Is this her?” she asked him.

“Trish, fucking go,” Crew ordered, his voice sounding like the crack of lightning while his eyes were stuck on me.

Her lips curved; she wasn’t the least bit intimidated or threatened by Crew. “Give him hell. I’m sure he deserves it,” she said as she passed by me.

I wasn’t sure how to take her advice, and she shut the door behind her, leaving me alone with Crew. Although the room differed from the one at the beach house, the smell was exactly the same. Don’t let it rattle you.

And yet, I took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent. Damn it. I missed it.

My gaze swept over the room, and I saw an open sketch pad on the desk with an array of pencils scattered around it. When they landed on the disarrayed bed, I bristled. Crew noticed.

“Do you want to give it a try? Is that why you came here, for a toss in the sheets, Killer?” He moved from the window, approaching me in slow, lazy strides as if he were a predator taking his time.

“Don’t be crass. You lied to me. Again,” I punctuated with a deeper scowl taking in his appearance and the slight stubble shadowing his jaw.

His eyes dropped to my mouth, and he looked like he could stare at me forever. He was only feet away from me now. “We covered this, Killer. If you need to continue to hate me, then do so, but do it outside of my bedroom.”

I shook my head, closing the last space between us, and poked him in the chest. Not once. Not twice. Three times. And it did nothing to alleviate the hurt and fury residing within me. “You should have told me, Crew. Instead, you let me believe it was you driving the car. I’m not everyone else. It was me behind the wheel that night. Me. Do you know how much guilt I’ve carried with me because of what happened to my dad? Why would you let me believe it was you? Why?”

The shadows in his eyes shifted but only for a second. “Cole shouldn’t have told you. The truth is between my brother and me, where it was supposed to stay,” he growled, knowing the only person who could have revealed their secret was his twin.

I threw my hands up, frustration raking across my heart. “He wanted to clear your name. God knows why. It’s not like you're worth redeeming.”

Crew scoffed. “That’s right. You should leave while you still can. While I have the willpower to let you, because the longer you stay in this room, the swifter the window of opportunity closes.”

His threat held truth for once. My heart pounded as his gaze imprisoned mine. Not a sane reaction, but nothing about Crew and I made sense. I lifted my chin. “That’s how much Cole cares about you. You’re his brother. He’d do anything for you.”

He couldn’t hide the troubled darkness from me. I saw through his armor. “You’re wrong, Killer. That’s how much he cares about you. Cole would never risk his future for any girl.”

Perhaps Cole had selfish reasons, but he had still unveiled the lie, and yet, it made me understand Crew more. “But you would risk yours for his,” I murmured, the dynamic of their relationship becoming clearer.

Silence greeted me in return. And his scowl.

My stupid, foolish heart squeezed. “I doubt this is the first time you’ve covered for him. Why do you take the blame?”

He shrugged, his fingers snaking around my wrist. “It’s expected of me. We all have roles to play.”

“What, so you pretend to be the troubled asshole while Cole gets to be the carefree good guy?”

The pad of his thumb brushed the inside of my wrist. “I’m not pretending.” He advanced, and with each step he took, I mirrored one in retreat. The fingers still wrapped around my hand weren’t going anywhere, and oddly, I didn’t want them to, not with the tingles or warmth they created every so often with a caress.

I couldn’t decide if he knew what he was doing or if he unconsciously had to touch me. “Bullshit, Crew,” I hissed. “You’re not as bad as you want everyone to think.” The backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Are you sure about that, Killer?” In one quick movement, I was flat on the bed with Crew on top of me, the firmness of his body pressing me deeper into the mattress—pressing into me.

“I didn’t ask for this. None of it. Not you. Not him. To be wedged between the two of you.”

“Too late for that,” he whispered against my lips, his lip ring grazing the corner of my mouth.

I stifled a moan. “It’s never too late, Crew. Or haven’t you figured it out yet?”

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