Chapter One

Tommy

I stared up into the cloudless sky as my lounger moved slowly around the pool. Any minute now, Blake was going to come through the sliding glass door. Walk back into my life when I had done everything I could to forget him. Which was impossible, since he was imprinted into my mind, body, and soul. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t tried. Anything in my room that reminded me of Blake? Gone. Shoved into a box and buried in the back of my closet. Pictures on my social media? Deleted like he was never even part of my life. Yeah, I was that asshole.

The only thing left was the matching tattoos we got before he left. Most of the time I never saw it because I wore a shirt, but on a day like today, when I was sitting out here with the sun beating down on me on a hot summer day, that memory slapped me in the face. It made been a spur-of-the-moment idea then, one that everyone said we would hate or regret, but I didn’t, even now. I reached up to drag my finger over the piece of bread inked into my skin colored in purple. Yeah, it was jelly. Blake’s was peanut butter.

How many hours had we spent out here? Talking, laughing, and doing nothing? Our first kiss had happened here. A lot of firsts had happened here, too. My dick started to stir at the thought, and I shifted uncomfortably. Everything with Blake had been so comfortable, relaxed, and perfect. I had never been able to find that with anyone else. But that was probably because I didn’t want to. They were just a bunch of faceless holes, a way to get off.

The sound of the sliding glass door immediately caused me to tense up. Even though I had mentally prepared myself for this day for years, I still wasn’t ready. I closed my eyes, ready for whatever Blake might throw at me, only to hear bare feet slap against the brick patio and then—

SPLASH.

I was drenched in water, and then loud laughter filled the air. I opened my eyes to glare down into the pool at Killian Hampton, the lead singer of Mulligan Downtown. He grinned back at me like a complete fool.

“I forgot how much fun that was. Babe, we should get a pool! Holy shit! What the fuck happened to your face?” he blurted as he pushed the wet curls back from his head to stare at me.

Good to know he hadn’t changed at all. He still had no filter. The tattoos that covered his body like scripture were new to me, but he had been working on them for years.

“Killian!” I glanced up to find Matthias Fuller, his fiancé, gaping at him, his hazel eyes wide with horror.

I slipped off the lounger into the water. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but it was better than the way most people just stared at me in shock or ignored me completely. Like I didn’t exist.

“Well, are you going to tell me or not?” Killian had this giddy look on his face like a kid on Christmas morning. His blue eyes sparkled devilishly. “If I ask you the questions and I get it right, do I win a prize?”

Matthias looked mortified. “Oh my God. I am so sorry, Tom.” He shook his head. “Kill, get out of the fucking pool.”

“Babe, you’re no fun. Come swim with me.” He reached for his ankle, but Matthias took a step back.

I ignored them as I climbed from the water. “It was a skating accident.”

It wasn’t weird for me to see them together. I remember the crush Matty had on Killian growing up. The way he pined for the broody singer, and sure, we all pretended not to notice Killian, trying to ignore him, but it was obvious there was some sort of connection there. Matty had confessed that they were seeing one another in private right around the same time Blake and I got together.

“Oh shit, dude, I’m sorry.” Killian was out of the pool, fully clothed and dripping wet, trying to grab his fiancé, who was doing a terrible job of acting like he didn’t want to be caught. They were cute.

Jealousy hit me hard, and I immediately hated what they had.

I shrugged. “It is what it is.”

It wasn’t, but what was I supposed to say? It had ended my hockey career, and now I was back here. In Canfield. Living at my parents’ house.

“Did it hurt?”

Matthias clamped a hand over Killian’s mouth. “Stop it right now.” He shook his head. “Ignore him, please. He forgets his manners sometimes, and clearly today is one of those days. Holy crap, what is wrong with you?”

“You know what?” I threw my head back and laughed. So loud and long that my stomach hurt. Until I had tears streaming down my face like I had just heard the funniest joke of my life. When I finally stopped, they were both staring at me like I had lost my mind.

“No one ever asks me. They stare at me like I’m a freak. Most people in town know what happened, or at least part of the story. I took a skate to the face during a game. It ended my career because every single time I think about getting on the ice again, I have a panic attack, afraid it might happen again. I nearly lost an eye.”

I pointed to the jagged scar that started on the right side of face by my hairline, went below my eye, under my nose, over my lips and down my jawline.

“It hurt like a son of a bitch. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to. You want to see pictures, Killian? I’ll show them to you sometime.”

“I didn’t mean—”

I held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not mad. This is good. Kids ask, adults stare or shun me or act like they don’t see it. No one looks me in the eye except my family. I don’t date, I have no friends, and I’m fucking lonely. So, yes, it hurt. In more ways than one.”

“Tom, are you sure you’re not mad? Because you might want to tell your face,” Matthias whispered.

He looked like he might want to hug me, and I probably would have let him if I didn’t think Killian might hit me. Matty and I had been friends once, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

I shook my head. “Not at you or Killian. More like myself.” I started toward the house. “You can stay out here and enjoy the pool as long as you—” I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Blake standing on the other side of the sliding door.

He stared at me like I wasn’t real. Like maybe I was a dream or some sort of mirage. He blinked a few times, then his hand came up to pull the door back, and he stepped out onto the patio. I saw the moment he noticed my scar. His green eyes widened as he took it in, and his brows furrowed like he wasn’t sure what to say. His eyes softened with worry.

“It’s real,” I blurted. “You can stare all you want or pretend you don’t see it.”

Blake’s forehead wrinkled. “What happened?”

“I’m not explaining that again.” I took a step back. “I need... Can you move so I can go inside?”

I could feel his gaze as his eyes burned into me. Did no one tell him? Not even my brother, now that he and Mav were back together. Christ, they were getting married this week. That’s why everyone was here in the first place.

“Can’t you even talk to me? We were friends, Tommy. Why didn’t you at least call me? I would have—”

I met Blake’s gaze again. “You would have what? Saved me? No one could have saved me, Blake, not even you. It was a skating accident.”

Killian and Matthias were probably watching us. Did they wonder why I never went to a Mulligan Downtown show? Did they wonder what happened between Blake and me, or did they not care? Did he even tell them about us?

Blake continued to watch me, and I let my eyes move over his face. His blond hair was a little longer than I remembered, styled the same. My fingers itched to touch it like I used to. He had a few days’ worth of stubble on his face, but it was the softness of his eyes that was eating me up inside.

“Please, Bug, just let me by. I can’t do this with you right now.”

When he moved, I shot through the door so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet to get inside, then rushed up to my room. I ignored my brother calling out to me, and when I slammed the door behind me, I sank down onto the floor to try to gather myself together.

I was a mess. There was no other way to describe me or my life. A disaster, fuck up, lost cause, and I couldn’t seem to get my shit together. When the accident happened—the accident...Christ it was funny to even call it that—I spent weeks in the hospital. Skin grafts, plastic surgery, all the shit they did to try to make me look like myself again. But I didn’t. I had an ugly, red scar across my face that you couldn’t ignore, and I had to live with that. Me, no one else.

Once I realized I couldn’t get back on the ice, I came back here, to Canfield, to the house I grew up in, and for a while, I did nothing. I stayed in my room, slept, felt sorry for myself, and cried. Depression grew heavy in my bones until my mother dragged me to therapy. I probably wouldn’t have gone if she hadn’t threatened to bring Jackson home. I didn’t need my brother’s life interrupted. He was busy with his own career, hockey, and getting over Maverick. Though he never told me what had happened, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. I knew they had been together.

A knock at the door caused me to jump.

“Tom, can I come in?” Jackson’s voice was a whisper.

“Not now.” I leaned my head against the door.

“Yes, now.” He grunted. “Unlock it or I’m breaking it down. I’ll buy Mom and Dad another one.”

Jesus, was he kidding right now? I stood up, unlocked the door, and moved to sit on my bed as my brother stepped inside my room.

“What?” I folded my arms over my chest.

“Is this going to be a bad week for you?” Jackson closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall.

A memory hit me then from when we were younger. I think I was around ten, and he was fourteen. Some lady at the supermarket thought we were twins, and Mom had thought it was the funniest thing. I suppose, to a stranger, it might look that way. We both had brown eyes, auburn hair, but where Jackson’s was curly, mine was pin straight. He was taller, had more weight and broader shoulders, but even now someone might see it. Even if I had the ugly scar on my face. I wished at times that we were twins because I had always wanted to be exactly like my big brother. He was perfect in my eyes.

I sighed. “It’s a bad life, Jax.”

“Stop it, Tom. When are you going to stop feeling sorry for yourself? Get back on the ice? Do what you love?” he asked.

Tears stung my eyes. “When I’m dead.”

“Hey,” Jackson snapped. “Don’t say shit like that. Look at me.” When I did, his face was pinned into an angry grimace. “I know you’re miserable, but can you try to smile a little bit now and then? This is important to Maverick. I promised him the perfect wedding, and that’s all he wants. Just give me that.”

I pressed my lips together as I nodded. “I know, I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin this for you.”

“Are you going to hide up here the entire time? Mom’s cooking. You should come down and spend time with everyone. Don’t you want to see Blake? You guys had a good thing going.” Jackson moved closer. “I want to spend time with you, too.”

The last thing I wanted to do was leave this room. “Yeah, just let me get dressed and make myself more presentable.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Jax told me. “About anything. About the accident, about everything that’s going through your head. I’m your brother, but I’m also your friend.”

My throat grew tight. “Yeah, thanks, but I have a therapist for that shit.”

“Jesus, Tom,” He dragged a hand down his face. “You used to be such a happy kid. I know the accident fucked you up, but hell. You remind me of how Maverick was when we reconnected. Maybe you need to get laid.”

“Not happening. No one wants to come near this.” I waved a hand at my face. That wasn’t true. There had been a couple of times I’d needed to scratch that itch. As long as they didn’t have to look at me, men didn’t have a problem with me fucking them. It was easy to keep the lights off. To not kiss them or let me them touch my face.

Jackson grunted. “That’s bullshit. Look, just get dressed and come downstairs before Mom has my ass for it, okay? She made meatloaf.” He turned to head back to the door. “I love you, kiddo.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Love you, too, Jax.”