Page 44 of Beneath the Stars (Sugarlake 1)

But back then, it was a normal way of life.

I woke up to the sound of Lily crying. It wasn’t an unusual alarm clock for me. I got up with her a lot, especially in the night when my mom was locked in her room or busy making sure every speck of dust was gone from our apartment. She didn’t like for us to bother her when she got in one of those moods, so I’d always rush in to keep Lily quiet.

Tonight though, it was still early. Before dinner, for sure. My stomach was growling, the ice cream and remnants of my mom’s words the only things sloshing around in my belly.

I went into the kitchen, knowing Lily probably wanted milk and I was relieved because Mom had already gone to the store.

But when I got to the fridge, it was empty. All I could find was a sleeve of opened crackers in the cabinet.

Mom was awake. I could hear her pacing the living room, ignoring Lily’s cries. My stomach sank as I watched her, peeking around the corner from the kitchen. She was in another one of her moods. “A side effect” of her medicine, she called it.

I remember thinking that she must have been feeling sick and needed the grocery money for herself. But I knew if she used it on that, we wouldn’t be getting anything in our bellies that night.

I crept back down the hallway, careful not to disturb her. She had a temper, and it had been such a good day. I didn’t want to ruin it.

So I filled up a cup with water and hoped

it would be enough for Lily to get through the night. I stayed in her room and cuddled her up, nothing but tap water and stale crackers to keep us from going hungry. I held on to the words my mom had told me earlier. She loved me and I was a good brother. The best.

I convinced myself that it was enough.

20

Alina

Twenty-Four Years Old

“Hey, I think you dropped this.”

I’m rushing out the door of the rec center, digging through my bag, trying to find my keys. I have to get to my shift at the diner before Patty yells at me again for running late. I can’t afford to tick her off.

“Excuse me, miss! Wait up.”

I spin around, realizing the deep southern voice is trying to get my attention. Logan Baxter stands in front of me. I’ve turned so quickly my hands have landed on his chest to balance myself. I’m basically fondling his extremely defined pecs. My face flushes as I rip them away and take a few steps back.

I know him, of course. Well, I know of him. We went to school together, and by “together,” I mean he was a senior when I was a freshman. Where Reed Stanton was the star quarterback, Logan Baxter was the shining wide receiver. A few months after our date, Reed went on to play college ball before declaring for the draft—going first overall. No surprise there. Logan, on the other hand, kept himself right here in good ‘ol Sugarlake.

Logan grins. A crooked smile that pulls up a pinch more on the right. He reaches out, placing the missing keys in my hand.

“You dropped these.” He trails his cerulean eyes from my plain ballet flats up to my flushed face. “Alina, right?”

“Uhh... yeah. Yep. And you’re Logan.” I stumble over my words.

“That’s the rumor.”

His laid back personality reminds me of Jax, instantly putting me at ease. “Well, thanks for my keys. I woulda been up the creek without a paddle if it weren’t for you.”

“No problem, just happy I was behind you.” He smiles, a glint lighting up his eyes.

His words send a tingle rushing through me. His short blond hair is damp, and when he runs his thick fingers through it, that tingle shoots straight to my core. I can’t help it. It’s been a seriously long time since I’ve had any sexual contact.

I shift on my feet. “Were you here workin’ out?”

He shakes his head. “I’m a personal trainer. This is where I meet my clients.”

“Well, shoot. I can’t believe I’ve never run into you before. I’ve been teachin’ dance here for years.”

“I know.”

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