Page 5 of November's Bad Boy: Kacen
CHAPTER 2
NATALIE
I didn’t know this was a setup.
Ruby handed me a tray of cookies shaped like pumpkins, winked, and whispered something about cinnamon and cider. That’s what I thought this party was—costumes, bad punch, a sendoff for Miles and Kinley before they head to that vineyard life they’ve always wanted. I thought it was about nostalgia and town gossip and avoiding eye contact with the man who haunted my high school years. Not a sting operation. Not deputies cuffing Doug Hendricks by the snack table while Hades growled like a movie villain’s pet.
So, no, I didn’t know.
But I’m not surprised.
This is Mustang Mountain, after all. Nothing stays simple here. And of course, Ruby’s party would be laced with some kind of drama. She probably planned the playlist and the arrest timing in the same breath.
By the time the shock has worn off and people start buzzing again, the room feels too small. My wings bump into someone, my dress feels too tight, and my skin itches with the kind of attention I don’t want. I need air. I grab a drink from the bar, not the punch—Ruby said Hades stuck his nose in it—and head for the back porch.
The cold hits me like a reset button. I take a deep breath and stare out at the town where I’ve lived in my whole life. It’s still the same. The mountains cradle the skyline. The wind sings through the pine trees. And somewhere behind me, I can still feel his eyes.
I’m not surprised when the door creaks open again.
“You always this quick to disappear after chaos?” Kacen asks, his voice warm and rough like gravel in a coffee mug.
I don’t look at him. “Only when I’m not in the mood to be interviewed.”
He steps up beside me, close enough that I can smell his cologne—clean, a little woodsy, a little dangerous. “I didn’t know either,” he says quietly.
“I figured. You looked just as shocked as everyone else.”
He nods, and we stand there in a silence that prickles. Sipping my beer, I try not to think about how his shoulder is inches from mine. Try not to remember the smile he gave me earlier when he tried to say hi. Like we were old friends. Like he didn’t humiliate me back in high school to keep his place at the top of the food chain.
“I meant what I said inside,” he adds. “You look good.”
I arch a brow and glance at him. “Flattery’s not going to earn you forgiveness.”
“I’m not asking for that.” He exhales slowly. “I’m just trying to talk to the girl I never got the guts to be decent to.”
I take another sip. “You missed your chance about ten years ago.”
He leans forward on the railing. “Yeah. I know.”
The moonlight catches on the stubble along his jaw, and I hate the part of me that still notices things like that. That he smells good. That his voice does something strange to my body. That even after everything, he still feels familiar.
I glance over at him again. “Why are you really here?”
“My brother needed help,” he says simply. “And maybe I needed a reset.”
I laugh, but it’s not a kind one. “You think Mustang Mountain is where people come to fix themselves?”
“It worked for Kingston.”
“You and I both know Kingston was never the problem.”
He flinches a little at my words, and I almost feel bad. Almost.
He turns to face me. “I know I was cruel to you. I’ve carried that around for years. You didn’t deserve it.”
“No,” I say, swallowing hard. “I didn’t.”
There’s a pause between us, thick and heavy like fog on a morning you don’t want to get out of bed. I should walk away. Tell him to enjoy the rest of his stay and remind him I’ve got nothing to say to the boy who made me feel small when I was already shrinking.
