Page 28 of A Wreck, You Make Me (Bad Boys of Bardstown #3)

Chapter Ten

He’s standing across the backyard, in a group consisting of Ledger, Riot, and Reign, who is visiting from Florida for the weekend.

Instead of a drink like the rest of the guys at Callie’s get-together, he’s got a bowl of strawberries with him like a crazy psycho.

And every time he bites into one with his sharp teeth, I have to clench my thighs tightly.

Every time I notice a drop of juice running down his jaw, my pussy pulses and I can feel my own juices dripping out and wetting my panties.

And every time he swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs, I watch it like my life depends on it.

He's doing it on purpose, isn’t he?

He knows I’m watching him because he always knows.

I honestly should not have agreed to go when Callie invited me.

I knew he’d be here. But today was my day off, from both jobs, and I haven’t gotten to see him all day and I know it’s stupid but I think by now we know, I’m really fucking stupid when it comes to him.

“Hey.”

I jump at Callie’s voice and look away. “Hey.”

“Oh my God, you have to tell me,” she says excitedly.

Even though I know she can’t possibly be talking about what I think she’s talking about, my heart still pounds fearfully. “Tell you what?”

She points to her glass of piná colada. “The recipe for this.”

I breathe out with relief. “Oh, yeah. Sure, of course.”

I made some for the party when I arrived because it’s my specialty.

She smiles, squeezing my shoulder in gratitude. “I think I’m going to turn it into a cupcake.”

“Yeah?” I smile. “Reed wants a new flavor?”

She chuckles. “He’ll eat whatever I’ll make him, but I think I’ll try something new for his birthday this year. We’ll always do cupcakes because Halo loves them, and even though Flora is only a few months old, I want to bring her into the tradition of baking cupcakes for daddy every year.”

My heart squeezes with happiness. I’m so, so thrilled for her that sometimes it’s hard not to spill the beans and tell her what she is to me.

She deserves all the good things in the world, not only because of what she went through but also because she’s really so kind and warm.

She has to be the friendliest person I’ve ever met.

She always has a smile for everyone and she’s the glue that holds all of us girls together.

No wonder Reed dotes on her like a fairy princess and calls her that too. Fae short for fairy.

“I’m also on the hunt for something with strawberry in it.”

“What?”

She sighs heavily before replying, “So I’m kind of worried.”

I frown. “About what?”

Coming closer, she says, “About Shep.”

My heart drops. “What, why?”

“You know, about things that happened six months ago,” she explains, her blue eyes clouded.

“It’s not as if something has changed with him.

I mean, he’s still the same Shepard, playing around and being an asshole and driving me crazy because he won’t stop giving Halo candy before bed like he always does, but. ..”

“But what?”

She sighs again. “But for some reason, I don’t believe it.”

“That he’s okay?”

“Yeah, and I’ve been thinking about it,” she goes on.

“And I realize nothing ever gets him down. He’s always fine.

He’s always… his usual self, happy and smirk-y.

And that’s impossible, right? How can you always be okay?

Something has to get you down. And it’s so crazy that I never thought that before.

That I never had to worry about him, when I worry about all my brothers. ”

My heart is clenching and clenching because she’s right. As in, he’s not okay. He doesn’t talk about it. In fact, he hates talking about it, but I know. I know firsthand he’s not. And I hate that I can’t tell her. That I have to keep this a secret as well, along with so many other things.

“And,” she keeps going, biting her lip, “I overheard something.”

“What?”

“Con and Ledge were talking earlier today and I heard Con saying Shepard is struggling,” she confesses.

“Struggling h-how?”

“At practice. He was saying the team wants to bench him for the season.”

Fear strikes my chest. “Bench him?”

Callie shakes her head, her tone angry now.

“Yeah, my brother. The Wrecking Thorn. He made their stupid soccer team and now they want to bench him because they say he’s bringing them bad publicity and is having trouble concentrating.

And they’re afraid he’ll lose them the championship.

I mean, hello? Can we please give him a little break?

He just had his heart broken. And trust me, even if it’s true and he can’t focus, he’s still going to be better than their entire useless team.

” Then she amends, “Well, maybe not better than Ledge, but still. So anyway, I just thought I should do something special for him. And given his crazy obsession with strawberries these days, I was thinking of making like a strawberry shortcake, but that would be too plain for him. Maybe I can do a strawberry margarita cake or something…”

She goes on to tell me all about this new recipe she saw, but despite wanting to listen to her, my brain tunes her out.

All I can think about is him. His pain. His loss of focus because of it.

I thought they were all rumors. In the media, I mean.

Aren’t they always exaggerating? Most of the things on there are usually lies.

I thought they were making things up, trying to get clicks like with broken bones and a cheating fiancée.

But soccer is everything to him. Soccer is his life. He was born for it. He’s fucking good at it. He’s goddamn fucking phenomenal at it. No one can bench him. No one should bench him.

I won’t let them.

My eyes find him again and I keep them on him.

I don’t care if someone thinks I’m staring at him.

I don’t care if he thinks I’m staring at him.

He already knows. I watch him and I agree with what Callie said.

He does look okay. He looked okay that first night too, when I spilled my drinks on him.

He looked like nothing happened six months ago. He looks that way now too.

Even though she is here. Isadora.

But looking at Shepard, you wouldn’t be able to tell he knows she’s here.

But he does. I know he does. Because the longer I watch him, I realize he always has his back to her.

He always looks away if she comes into his line of vision.

He ducks his head. He laughs at something. He turns completely around.

God, he’s good.

He’s good at pretending she doesn’t exist. He’s better than me, and I’ve had nine years of practice in pretending he doesn’t exist for me . Nine years of hiding my pain, and he still hides it better than I do.

Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he say they were about to bench him?

That he’s struggling and… Actually, I should’ve known.

He’s so allergic to emotions and want to deflect and deny and bury things.

Of course, he’d be hiding something. Still, he came to me for help and all I could do was make excuses.

About our stupid connection and my lies and the money and God…

He came to me for help and I rejected him.

As I see him break away from the group, I go after him.

I leave my things, my purse, my phone, everything, like I always do, and follow him through the back door.

There’s a hallway flanked by doors that lead to the kitchen and the dining area.

It’s empty though, so I’m not sure where he went, but I keep going until someone grabs me by the arm.

Just by the grip of his fingers, I know it’s him, and my heart starts pounding in my chest. He yanks me into Callie’s bathroom and shuts the door with a bang, pressing me against it. Then, “You wanna keep this a secret from my little sister, Strawberry, you gotta stop giving me fuck-me eyes.”

I knew he knew that I was watching. I knew that and it makes my heart so full, so achy and heavy that my hands find his shoulder and hold on as I whisper, “I don’t care.”

Something flashes through his gorgeous eyes, and his fingers find their way into my hair. “No?”

I shake my head. “No.”

He fists my strands and tugs. As much as I hate my hair and want to keep it tied at all times, I’m wearing it loose because I know he likes it that way.

He unties it often enough when I’m dancing for him, watching the strands frame my face, tickle the small of my back.

He smells it often enough too while wrecking me to pieces for him.

“Tell me why,” he growls, his grip in my hair tight.

It’s okay though, because my grip on him is just as tight. “They’re going to bench you.”

“What?”

I lick my lips, taking in his beautiful features.

Those sharp peaks of his cheekbones, that perfect square of his jaw.

His messy hair, grazing his forehead, his nose with a bump.

Everything about him is so familiar to me, so perfect and dreamy.

So wrong and so right. So thrilling, so toxic.

So wrecking, yet somehow, healing too. He breaks my heart, but he somehow makes it beat harder and faster than anything else in this world.

It's because I’m his.

I’ve always been his. His distraction. He told me that, right? Since the moment he saw me. So all I have to do now is embrace it.

“Callie told me,” I explain, twisting his shirt in my grip.

“She said they’re talking about benching you for the season.

Because they think you can’t win. They think…

I can’t believe they think that. I can’t believe anyone would think that about you.

You’re amazing. You’re a fucking rockstar.

You’re their best player and no matter what happened six months ago, no matter what happens, ever, you’ll always win. You’ll always bring home the trophy?—”

“Shut up,” he growls.

“What?”

He leans closer, his grip in my hair growing tighter. “Shut the fuck up.”

“But—”