Chapter 9

9

KANNON

I gunned the engine and rolled out of her driveway. I couldn’t help but glance back at the old house. In all honesty, the place looked pretty sorry. But then again, I liked a good challenge. Besides, it wasn’t the house that had me excited, it was the occupant.

The stubborn, fiery woman that I used to give noogies to right after she brushed her hair. The girl I used to tease incessantly just to make her angry so she would argue with me. I loved getting her fired up.

God, what a piece of work she was.

In school, she’d made my heart flip and my chest hurt just by walking into a room. She was still as stunning as ever. Maybe even more so if I factored in all those new curves she developed.

I drove down the road with my mind replaying our conversation. The way she had looked at me with those fiery eyes. I could tell she was trying to keep me at arm’s length, but I also sensed an undercurrent of something else. After all these years, there was still something between us. A spark maybe or a mutual gravitational pull that neither of us could deny or escape from. We had been the best of friends for a long time. She had been my other half. Losing her had left a huge hole in my life.

And now she was back. I didn’t know how to deal with that.

I headed for the bar, a little disappointed she declined my invitation. But I supposed she had outgrown all of us here. I knew she had a life in Miami. I imagined she spent her time in swanky lounges and clubs. She wouldn’t dare step foot in the bar Riggs owned. It was far from fancy. Hell, it was barely tolerable. I didn’t want to think about what the health department would find if they did a real inspection.

The bar buzzed with the usual sound of clinking bottles, rowdy conversations, and the occasional outburst of laughter. It was the kind of background noise that should’ve been soothing after a long day but it wasn’t. I was irritable. Nothing new there.

I leaned back in my chair, my boot hooked over the rung, nursing a beer I wasn’t really tasting. My mind felt busy. Loud and chaotic. The beer wasn’t going to do it. The whiskey was about the only thing that worked these days.

Familiar faces, familiar noise. None of it settled the restless itch under my skin. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt off. Like there was something I should be doing. Or maybe it was guilt. I couldn’t explain what was wrong with me. I was just out of sorts.

Chris and Luke walked over from where they had been playing pool. They took seats at the bar next to me. “Saw Merritt earlier at the hardware store,” Luke said. “How’s she holding up?”

“She seems fine,” I said, shrugging like it didn’t matter. “I wouldn’t know. If you saw her, you should have talked to her.”

Riggs raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Yep,” I said.

He exchanged a look with Chris.

“Didn’t you two used to be thick as thieves?” Chris asked. “What happened?”

I put the bottle down harder than I meant to. The glass thunked against the bar. “We used to be best friends, yeah, but that was a long time ago. She left for college, and we both moved on. Friendship fizzled out. Happens.”

Luke frowned, resting his elbows on the table. “You sure about that? She doesn’t look like someone who’s moved on.”

“How the hell would you be able to tell that by looking at her?” I asked. I didn’t bother trying to hide my frustration or irritability.

“If she had someone waiting for her back home, don’t you think they’d be here? Helping her deal with all this? Wouldn’t a boyfriend or husband be at his lady’s side? If he’s not, then he’s a piece of shit and she should dump his ass.”

I wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, I found myself staring at the condensation sliding down the side of my bottle. I rubbed my thumb over it.

“Guess you’ve got a point,” I muttered, just to shut them up.

Chris grinned like he’d won something. “Knew you’d see reason eventually.”

Before I could respond, Riggs smirked and walked away to serve another customer.

“Speaking of seeing things, I saw you yesterday,” Luke said. “You were flying down the back road past Carson’s farm. You keep riding like that, man, you’re gonna eat a ticket or worse.”

I shrugged. “I wasn’t going that fast.”

“The hell you weren’t,” Riggs shot back, his eyes narrowing.

“You weren’t there,” I snapped. He shook his head and finished filling the glass under the tap.

“I was doing eighty, and you blew past me like I was standing still,” Luke said.

I shot him a dirty look. He didn’t know when to shut up. It was like being ratted out by my younger brother.

Luke whistled low. “That bike of yours is fast, but it’s not a tank. You better slow down, Kannon.”

“Yeah,” Chris added, his tone serious now. “We’ve all noticed it, man. You’ve been riding like a bat out of hell ever since?—”

The silence that followed was deafening. I knew exactly where they were going, and I didn’t want to hear it.

“Say it,” I said, my voice low.

Chris hesitated, then sighed. “Ever since Leah died.”

Her name hit me like a sucker punch. My grip tightened around the neck of the beer bottle, but I didn’t drink. Couldn’t. Instead, I stared at the table, my jaw clenched tight enough to ache.

“I’m fine,” I bit out. “It wasn’t that fast. And you don’t ride a bike like that to putter around like Grandma out for a Sunday drive.”

None of them answered, which pissed me off even more. What right did they have to talk about her? About me? Like they had any idea what it felt like to lose everything that mattered and still have to get up every day like the world hadn’t ended.

We sat in silence for a while. I knew things were awkward. I made them that way. That was nothing new. I had a real knack for making things uncomfortable. I was brash and had been told more than once I could learn to use a little tact.

Tact clouded a message. It could be misinterpreted. The way I talked left no room for misunderstandings. I said it like it was. Period.

I stood up from the stool. “I’m out.”

“Come on, Kannon,” Riggs said, his tone almost pleading. “We didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Dude, chill,” Luke said. “We’re just trying to keep you alive.”

“I’m alive,” I said.

I tossed a twenty on the table for my tab and headed for the door. I wasn’t in the mood to hear more of their preaching and sympathy. I wasn’t some goddamned charity case or a fragile trinket to be handled with padded gloves. I was just Kannon, the guy that all of them had known for years, the same guy I had been since Leah died.

The night air was cold. It felt good against my skin, pulling me back to reality and away from that weird cloud of doom and gloom that always hovered when people talked about Leah.

My chest was tight, my skin prickling with the need to move. The bike was right where I’d left it, gleaming under the streetlight.

I settled into the seat and fired up the engine. It roared to life, the vibrations humming through me like a second heartbeat. Leah’s name echoed in my head as I tore down the road, the wind ripping at my jacket.

I didn’t know where I was going, but that wasn’t the point. The point was the speed, the rush. They were the only things that could drown out the memories for a little while.

But even as I pushed the bike harder, my thoughts betrayed me. Leah’s face faded, replaced by Merritt’s. The stubborn set of her jaw when she told me she wasn’t leaving her dad’s house. The way her curves had filled out over the years, thicker and softer than they’d been when we were teenagers. The way she still called me on my shit like no one else could.

I cursed under my breath, slowing the bike as I neared home. The last thing I needed was to get tangled up in her mess. She had a life somewhere else and it didn’t include me. And I sure as hell didn’t have room for her in mine.

That didn’t stop me from thinking about her when I fell into bed later that night. The house was too quiet after the noise of the bar.

I closed my eyes but all I saw was Merritt. Her lips, her curves, the way her jeans hugged her hips. The way her eyes sparked when she argued with me.

“Damn it,” I muttered, raking a hand through my hair.

I got out of bed and dropped to the floor to do a few pushups. Anything to distract myself, to exhaust my body enough that it wouldn’t betray me. But each dip down only seemed to bring her face closer.

When I could no longer endure the torment of memories and what-ifs colliding in my exhausted brain, I went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey. I poured myself a glass and downed it.

I put the bottle away and went back to bed, doing all I could to silence my thoughts. I needed sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. I was going to help Merritt get that house fixed up. Not just for her but for Gary.

Just thinking about the necessary work should exhaust me. But it didn’t. Nothing seemed to help my restlessness. She had caused an ache in my balls that demanded release. I slipped my hand under the blanket and closed my eyes. My imagination ran wild with my hand on my cock. I imagined it was her touching me.

My thoughts filled with her scent, the feel of her against me, and her thighs squeezing mine. Heat surged through my body. My breathing grew harsh in the quiet room. I slid my hand up and down my own cock until I brought myself over the edge, gritting my teeth to silence a groan. The release was explosive and sent a wave of drowsiness washing over me.

But even as my body relaxed, my mind churned with thoughts of Merritt. Had she changed? Probably not. She was still stubborn as hell and would probably refuse to admit it if she ever needed me.

When I finally drifted off, it wasn’t Leah I dreamed about like I usually did. It was Merritt. And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.