Where It All Began (Phoenix Falls Series)

Damn it, Kaleb.

Of all the nights he had to throw his pre-fourth of July party on this one, the one where I’ve got Kitty letting me suck her skin in a steamed up bathroom whilst telling me how much she wants me on her.

That makes two of us, princess.

I shut the door, not bothering to lock it because if Kitty wants to come back in here then I’m not gonna be the one to stop her, and I shove my jeans down my thighs, my belt snapping fully open as the denim breaches my quads. I kick my pants off my legs and turn on the shower faucet, the water already steaming due to its previous occupant.

I quickly hose myself down because I’m coated in dirt from the ranch, but a big part of me is revelling in this feeling. It’s been two years since I was working at Jason’s company and I can’t deny that I’ve missed it; the hard wear on my body as I spend each day hauling and hammering, exerting myself past what my muscles originally thought they were capable of. Even though it’s only been a week since Kaleb and I came to watch over Kitty on the ranch, I can already feel my body reacclimatising to the non-stop labour, the pleasure that comes with being physically overworked.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that our band has been a success in so many small towns across the country, but working myself to full capacity from dawn until dusk is what really gets my engine going.

I squirt out a pump of shower gel, fucking loving the fact that Kitty is now covered in this too, and I quickly scrub it up and down my arms, over my torso, and everywhere else. God knows how Kitty will feel about Kaleb bringing half of Phoenix Falls to her parents’ ranch but I don’t want her alone out there if I can help it.

Best case scenario would be if she sees Kaleb’s party, doesn’t give a shit, goes to her bedroom where I can find her on her own, and I sneak in an hour of her company, undisturbed and still a secret from her brother.

Worst case scenario? My breathing gets heavy just thinking about it.

If I leave this bathroom and find her wearing a stringy bikini as she gets chatted up in the kitchen by some small town brute you can bet your ass that I’m going to be playing the over-protective I’m here to look after you card. Or maybe I’ll put those teenage years of illegal bare knuckle sparring to use again and let out some steam by busting a few jaws.

Either way I obviously need therapy.

I rinse off the suds and rub a clean towel over my hair and body, squinting as a soap droplet runs into my eye. The temptation to use the towel Kitty threw into their laundry bin is so overwhelming that I almost do it. Mentally chastising myself I toss my towel on top of hers and then shuck my legs back into my jeans, albeit not wearing boxers this time because I’m not gonna wear a dirty pair, but I’m also definitely not going to waste another second going down to the guest room for a new freaking ’fit. I zip my fly up and wince as the metal scours my shaft.

I hope that isn’t the only action I’m getting tonight.

I slip my belt back through the buckle and then open the door, ready to head downstairs to whatever’s awaiting me.

Please don’t be wearing a bikini in front of all the guys, I think to myself, my mind spinning with a jealousy I’m not justified to have.

I try thinking rationally.

It’s harder than it sounds.

Even if Kitty was stripped down to a bikini in front of the guys, it wouldn’t really matter. Girls wear bikinis all the time, and it isn’t even a sexual thing – it’s a comfort thing, so that they can get in and out of a hot tub without destroying their underwear.

The cords in my neck tighten as I think about all of the things Kitty could get up to in a hot tub.

With someone else, my brain adds sardonically.

I grab a fistful of my hair and give it a rough tug, willing myself out of this unhinged possessive mindset.

It’s the twenty-first century, I remind myself. No acting like a caveman.

When I reach the bottom of the staircase I check the kitchen at my left to see if Kitty is mercifully inside ignoring everyone. I sigh when I see that it’s completely empty.

I turn right, where she also isn’t curled up on their living room sofa watching a movie, but I add that to my mental Things To Do Whilst I’m Staying At Kitty’s Place checklist as I trudge to the backdoor, leading to the barn and Kaleb’s hot tub via the rear route. I force my feet into my boots and then I pull the handle.

I can smell the party as soon as I step outside.

Sometimes Kaleb makes me homicidal. Doing this around his sister? I roll my shoulders to try and shake off my irritation, only then realising that I still don’t have a shirt on. Fuck me sideways. It’s not an issue seeing as most of the people here won’t be wearing too many items of clothing either, but I don’t want it to look like a threat around Kaleb’s guys. The problem with being big and cut is that, once another guy spots you, all that he sees is a challenge. A fight. And when you add a pool full of chicks into the mix, it’s just not a good combination.

Kicking at the grit as I traipse around to the front of the barn, my jaw instantly clenches as the hot tub comes into view. It’s packed.

In a macho attempt to prettify the dirt-space between the cabin and the outbuildings Kaleb has strung up some patio lights, illuminating the pool in a sultry summer’s night glow. At least they’ll help me scope out Kitty.

“Hey man,” Kaleb calls to me from a log that he’s set up around the edge of the tub. It’s like a wooded fairyland meets Wild West orgy.

I jerk my chin at him, meeting him at his stump.

“Your sister here?” I ask quietly, keeping my voice low so that the guys around us won’t hear. Then, remembering that I’m not supposed to act so interested, I add, “She wasn’t inside is all.”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods, then swigs at his bottle. A wash of disdain trickles through me.

He points straight ahead, directly across the water.

“She’s over there.”

I’m already on my way when he adds on, “You think I shouldn’t have?”

I stop and look at him, understanding the vagueness of his sentence when we’re surrounded by guys puffing joints and girls looking for a hook up. He’s asking me if I think he shouldn’t have hosted a party and, subsequently, if he shouldn’t have let Kitty come out here and join him. Yeah: if he shouldn’t have let her. Is it archaic? Yes. But I guess that not all of those protective caveman genes have fully left our systems despite the millions of years of evolution after all.

I grimace at him to express my view on the matter, hating the feel of eyes on me from the hot tub.

I trudge around the wooden porch chairs as I make my way to the other side, wishing that it was just Kitty and me out here, with no-one to distract her and no-one to stop us.

A tight feeling grips at my chest when my eyes finally land on her.

She’s not in a bikini thank God but she is still wearing her cute pyjamas and, honestly, that’s almost worse. There’s nothing a guy likes more than when a girl wears a sweet little outfit that he was never meant to see.

The fact that she’s not dressing up for anyone unlike every other person out here? That’s like heroin to a guy.

She’s not interested in me? Then she must be fucking priceless.

Unfortunately Tyler must agree with me as he’s resting his arms on the outer side of the hot tub, flexing his biceps like he’s putting on a mating display. Kitty’s sat on a deck chair in front of him, her knees bent up as she peels the label off a bottle that I’m two seconds away from ripping out of her hands.

Probably sensing the serial killer energy that I’m emitting Tyler glances my way and quickly recomposes. He stands up slowly, water dripping down his abs, and then he climbs out of the water and sets himself on the ledge.

Tyler’s a big guy, but knowing that I weigh at least thirty pounds more than him calms my mind like a mug of Valium.

“Hey,” he says, his tone the equivalent of fuck off.

“Hey,” I say back, my expression giving you first.

“Been a while,” he continues, eyes slipping down to Kitty and then back to me.

I can’t look at her right now or I’ll lose my train of thought so I keep my gaze steadily on Tyler.

“Not really,” I reply. “It’s only been a week.”

I give him a smile that reads could’ve been longer.

He nods as he takes in my mood, but there’s a mutual understanding beneath both of our hostilities. Since the day that I met Tyler we’ve always been too alike – the same heritage, the same interests, and the exact same type – but it’s never been an issue with us. Until now. Because this is the one interest that I’m never letting him take from me.

“It was good catching up.” He smiles down at Kitty and I see her cheeks flush red.

My fists are itching to meet Tyler’s face.

“See you around,” he adds, a little extra salt for my growing wound.

He meets my eyes as he moves to go, the silence between us speaking volumes. I jerk my chin at him, a sort of conciliating apology about the fact that, right now, we can no longer be friends. This is too important to me. She’s too important to me.

He nods in agreement and brushes past me.

Fucking finally. I look down at Kitty’s deckchair and, seeing as she’s all crunched up at the back of it, I straddle the front half, forcing her to look at me.

“Hey,” I say, leaning slightly towards her and trying to meet her eyes.

She avoids them completely but she’s smiling which is a good sign. She scrunches up her nose and then shakes her head, turning her face to the right so that she can continue ignoring me.

But she is smiling.

“Sorry. Again,” I say, even though I’m not sorry at all. I want to steal her all night. I want to steal her every night. “I’m a brute, I know.”

She laughs and her eyes flash my way, sparkling like crazy when they meet my own.

“You’re not sorry,” she says, lifting up her right foot and prodding her toes roughly in my chest. It’s not a gentle shove, and I fucking love that.

I’m also loving the fact that she’s not caring that Kaleb could potentially see us messing around right now. Unless that’s because we look like two friends. Which I hate.

I take her ankle in my left fist, stroking her bone with the pad of my thumb.

“I’m not sorry,” I concur, my voice lowering again.

Her smile falters a bit as the air between us grows heady, and she pulls her foot away, stashing it against her butt.

“You like Tyler?” I ask. I’ll admit, I’m not a subtle guy.

Her brow furrows and her lips pinch into a pout.

“No,” she mumbles, sullen like a teenager.

“It’s okay if you do.” A barefaced lie.

She rolls her eyes at me. “It’s loud out here and I wouldn’t be able to sleep in there if I tried to right now, so I may as well be out here. And I did want to catch up with him – we discussed some things at the bar that night and I wanted to hear his opinions again.”

I distract myself by cracking my neck because I hate every single part of that sentence.

“Is that his drink again?” I ask, far too invested.

“Would you have a problem with that?” she retorts, cocking up an eyebrow. “You’re only here for a few weeks, remember? So maybe you should stop pretending to stake a claim.”

Now it’s my turn to raise my eyebrows.

“Pretending?” I ask. If only she knew.

“Yeah.” She throws the bottle into the dirt and it lands with a thud, its contents glugging out with one quick gurgle. “You’ll be back on the road in no time, so this really isn’t a good idea.”

Her sudden mood swing takes me by surprise. I rake a hand through my hair as I try to re-rail the conversation.

“I can prove it to you Kitty,” I say as quietly as I can, keeping my voice beneath the bellows happening all around us. A splash sounds to my rear and a cannonball’s worth of hot tub water sprays up my back. I don’t bother turning to see which idiot just dive-bombed the hot tub. “I promise, this isn’t pretend. If you’ll let it be something more, I promise I’ll-”

She holds up her hand and I instantly stop speaking.

It looks like she’s counting to ten. As someone with a history of pent-up rage I understand.

I wait her out.

After a shaky breath she gives me a small smile and another nose scrunch that I want to tattoo on my brain.

“I’m not asking you for anything,” she whispers, swinging both her legs beneath her ass so that she can lean forward slightly. I try not to notice the way her tits plump up for me when she squeezes her arms together, but that’s kind of hard to do when she’s not wearing a bra. My eyes flash back up to hers as my abdominals contract and tighten.

She’s not wearing a bra.

“Now I’m the sorry one,” she says with a nervous laugh. “I shouldn’t have gotten all huffy like that or… or flipped on you. I know what you’re offering here.”

No you don’t. You have no idea how fast I’d give up everything to stay here with you.

Her spirits seem to have resettled because she gives me a naughty smile and says, “Hey, we’re pretty good at communicating though, aren’t we?”

Are we? I have no relationship experience so, other than lying through my teeth when I’m being a jealous piece of shit, I have no reason to play games with her. Why wouldn’t I tell her the truth? I want her to know how truly, deeply I want this. Us. Her.

I nod anyway, because we seem to be back on track and I don’t want it to go off-road again.

“Yeah,” I say, my eyes dropping down to her hand which is laid flat on the wood of the chair between us.

I give her ring finger a gentle rub, wishing that I could kiss her right now but begrudgingly willing to wait for a better moment – for the perfect moment. My mind runs through everything that’s happened since Kaleb and I got here a week ago – my raging desire to rekindle things with Kitty, the happy accident of bumping into Jace, my need to “stake my claim” whenever I see Tyler – and my brain gives me a little nudge towards a thought, currently just out of reach.

I glance over my shoulder to check that Kaleb’s not watching and then I swoop my hand under Kitty’s palm, interlocking her fingers with my own.

I give her a squeeze and her cheeks dimple sweetly.

“We’re more than pretty good.”