Page 15 of Beneath the Stars (Sugarlake 1)

Chase opens the door. He’s got sleepy eyes and nothing on but basketball shorts. My eyes track his chiseled abs, up his defined chest, and over the corded muscles in his arms. Construction work does a body good.

Leaning against the door frame, he glances at Becca before locking his stormy hazel eyes on me. I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass with the way he’s burning me up. Lust and hurt mix together, seeping from my pores, and flooding the space between us.

Becca cuts the tension. “Hey, asshole, your sister home?”

“Nope. Thought she was with you two.”

Dang it, Lily. I can’t believe she’s still using Becca and me as her scapegoats. I stay silent, even though my mind is screaming.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Becca says. “Mind if we hang around a while and see if she comes home? We need her fashion expertise. My girl has a date tonight with the quarterback and I’m tryin’ to guarantee some action, if you know what I mean.” She nudges my arm, winking obnoxiously.

I watch closely for his reaction, searching for a sign that he feels something, anything. But he’s stoic. A statue of perfection that remains unchanged.

“Sure, come on in.” He opens the door wider.

Becca rushes by, taking residence on the living room couch. I start to follow but get held back by a strong grip around my wrist. My heart stutters as he closes the space between us, tugging my back to his front. Lips brush my ear, his breath prickling my skin with goose bumps. I squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring the way my body sings.

“If he touches you, I’ll kill him,” he whispers.

The thread holding my anger inside snaps, unable to take any more of this twisted push-and-pull game he’s been playing. I turn around, ripping my wrist from his grasp in the process. “You’re not my brother, and you’re sure as hell not my daddy. You don’t get to come and go from my life as you please, then think you get a say.”

He rears back.

I don’t let him go far, stepping into him and speaking low. “As a matter of fact, when you go out tonight, and do whatever it is you do, with whatever girl you do it with... I want you to close your eyes, and imagine Reed doin’ the exact same thing to me.”

His nostrils flare, but that’s the only sign he’s heard what I said. It doesn’t matter. I’m done playing this game with him.

Becca’s staring, unashamed, as I walk to the couch and sit. Her hand shoots up for a high five.

“Don’t.” I smack her hand away before grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels. I try to ignore the feel of Chase’s stare and relax. Hopefully, Lily comes back soon to serve as a distraction.

We wait for what feels like hours, but she never shows up.

Reed Stanton is Sugarlake royalty. There’s not much that has the power to unite small towns quite like football, and he’s an all-American quarterback that’s given our high school the best record in the past two decades. My daddy is an avid football fan, which is the only reason Mama got him to agree to this date.

Right now, Daddy’s sipping whiskey in his recliner, his short dirty-blond hair mussed, and his blue eyes alert. He’s trying to pretend he’s not waiting for the doorbell to ring. “What’s this boy’s name again?”

“Daddy, you know Reed. You were just singin’ his praises last week when you were talkin’ about him takin’ us all the way to state.”

He grunts. “That was before he went

and got eyes for my baby girl.”

“You started datin’ Mama when she was younger than me,” I point out.

“That was different, I was a gentleman who only wanted to hold her hand. Didn’t even kiss ‘til we were married. Kids these days act too grown.”

“Don’t you listen to that nonsense, Alina May. Your daddy was a hound,” Mama teases, smacking him on the back of the head. “What time is Reed comin’ to pick you up, baby?”

The doorbell rings.

I’m halfway off the couch, when Daddy pops up, speed walking to the door. I huff out a laugh. I knew he was waiting.

Wiping my clammy hands on the skirt of my yellow sundress, I follow behind. Other than the rash decision of letting Ricky Walker pop my cherry in the back of his pickup truck, I don’t have much experience with guys. I’m a little nervous.

I see Reed’s head nodding to whatever Daddy’s saying, his silky brown hair just a little too long to be clean-cut, bobbing with the motion.

“Hi,” I interrupt.

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