Page 3

Sutton

J ordan has changed since I last saw him. He’s a lot angrier, for one. He’s also a lot more inattentive.

I manage to follow him all the way to his truck without him noticing me trailing behind him. Or maybe he notices and just doesn’t care. He made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me, didn’t he?

God, he’s so angry, so bitter…and he’s been that way for years.

I swallow the lump in my throat, popping my eyes open wide to keep myself from crying as I plant myself in front of his truck, effectively blocking him in. But I can’t silence the little voice in my head, telling me that it’s my fault that he’s turned into the man he is.

Once upon a time, he was different. Gentle, caring. Protective. He smiled, teased, and laughed with me. And I was fucking wild about him. Stars-in-my-eyes, butterflies-in-my-stomach, crazy about him. We circled around each other, drifting closer like magnets, but he never closed the gap entirely.

I was convinced that, sooner or later, he’d realize that I wasn’t just his best friend’s baby sister. He’d finally fall in love with me, too. We’d get married and have babies. Basically, my life would be a fairytale.

And then the fight happened.

When Jamison woke up in the hospital and told me that Jordan was in love with Vanessa, all my illusions shattered. The man of my dreams was in love with my brother’s girlfriend. I was devastated.

But I’m not sure I ever stopped loving him. I wanted to hate him. God, it would have hurt less if I had. But I just…couldn’t. I slapped him and told him to go to hell, not because he injured my brother, but because he broke my heart.

I’ve been mad as hell ever since, but I couldn’t let him go. I moped for months after he was sent down to the minor leagues, just drifting in a fog while life unraveled around me.

Vanessa quit college and stopped talking to me.

Jamison started drinking. A lot.

I devoured every news article about Jordan, desperate for any semblance of connection. I feel like I’ve just been drifting for the last five years, trying to hold everything together. But it hasn’t been together since that damn fight. Not for me. And certainly not for Jamison, either.

When he finally cracked four months ago and admitted that he’d lied and that Jordan should have hit him, it felt like the world was crashing down around me again. For five damn years, he maintained that lie. He ruined Jordan’s life. He ruined mine. I think he ruined his own, too. And for what?

I still don’t know. I still don’t understand.

All I know is that everyone thinks my brother has it all together, but he doesn’t. He drinks all the time. He never goes out. He’s bitter, full of self-hatred. And I’m certain it’s because he did something awful.

“Son of a bitch,” Jordan growls when he finally spots me standing in front of the truck like a human roadblock halting his escape plans. He flicks a glance up at the sky as if to ask for patience, and then those steely gray eyes lock with mine. “Move, Sutton.”

“No.” He may intimidate the hell out of half the world, but I’m not one of those people.

I know what he hides behind the ink he wears like armor and all those muscles.

He’s always been aggressive on the ice, but off it, he was never cruel or dangerous, especially not to me.

He may hate me now. He may be mad as hell.

But he still isn’t capable of hurting me. I know it instinctively.

He mutters a soft curse and slams the door of his truck before stalking toward me, moving with the same lethal grace that always captivated me. Someone as big as him shouldn’t be able to move the way he does, but he’s like a lion slinking through the grass. Hunting without a sound.

My nipples harden, heat flowing through me. It’s a familiar reaction; one I’ve felt a million times since meeting him when I was seventeen.

I knew nothing about desire until the day my brother brought him home.

That was the first time I ever felt anything like I felt looking at him.

He was this hot, tattooed Viking just standing in my living room like he belonged there.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at him.

I fantasized about him so much when I was alone in the dark.

It felt so damn wrong…and so damn right. He was ten years older than me, off-limits in every way. But I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted him. Desperately.

I still do.

He stalks right up to me, stopping when he’s so close I smell his aftershave. I feel his heat engulfing me. The toes of his giant boots touch my ballet flats.

“Move, princess,” he grits out.

“No.”

He stares at me for a protracted second and then sighs softly. Before I can even react, he wraps his hands around my waist, his touch searing into me. I gasp as he lifts me from my feet as if I weigh nothing.

We both know that’s a lie, though. I’ve never been a small girl.

My whole life, I’ve been thick and curvy…

and not in the hourglass type of way, either.

I’m round where I shouldn’t be. It never bothered me much.

It never seemed to bother Jordan much, either.

He never treated me like the guys at school did, like I was beneath them because of my weight.

“Jordan!” I cry, flinging my arms out to wrap them around his neck. “Put me down right now.”

“Plan to. Just as soon as your infuriating little ass is out of my way.” He stalks several feet away, his arms steady around me.

I feel his body moving against mine with every step.

Every delicious inch of him is pressed against me.

God, he’s even bigger than I remember, as if he’s spent the last five years exorcising his demons in the gym.

He plunks me down on my feet in the middle of an empty parking spot two rows from his truck, and then steps back with a satisfied grunt, his expression completely level. “Don’t follow me, Sutton.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Harassment is against the law. So is stalking.”

“Yeah? Well, so are kidnapping and assault,” I remind him, annoyed and turned on at the same damn time.

His lips actually twitch like I’m amusing him. “I didn’t kidnap or assault you. I moved you out of the way so I didn’t run you over.” He shoots me a hot, irritated look. “I just bought the truck. It’d piss me off to dent it.”

I splutter in outrage and then scowl when his lips twitch again, a sort of wild amusement glinting deep in his eyes. “I’m not harassing or stalking you.”

As far as retorts go…that one sucks. But it’s the only one I can come up with when he’s staring at me like he isn’t sure if he wants to spank me, fuck me, or run in the opposite direction.

He glances around the parking lot with this who-do-you-think-you’re-kidding expression—one brow quirked, his eyes intentionally wide, and his lips quirked sideways. And now I’m not sure if I want to strangle him, fuck him, or stomp away in the opposite direction.

Who knew Jordan Silvestri could be so damn irritating?

“I told you that I wasn’t going away,” I finally grumble. It’s the only defense I can muster.

“Guess you’re as fucking stubborn as ever then.”

“No.” I lock eyes with him, stepping closer. Not entirely sure if I’m taunting him or warning him. “You aren’t the only one who changed, Jordan. I’m more stubborn than ever.”

Surprise flickers through his hardened expression before he manages to school it. “How do you know I changed?”

“Maybe I kept up with you.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal…like I haven’t spent the last six years of my life completely obsessed with this man.

“You kept up with me.” His tone is level. Flat. Like he thinks I’m full of shit.

“Just because you quit caring doesn’t mean I did,” I snap, frustrated by that expression. Hurt because he thinks so little of me.

I can’t really blame him, though, can I? I’m the one who slapped him and told him to go to hell. And I’m the one who has spent the last five years believing my brother.

Does he know that I hate myself for it? That I’ve thought a million times over the years about coming to see him?

That I’ve barely slept since Jamison finally let the truth slip?

That I packed up my whole life and came here because I couldn’t stay away once the truth was out there?

It’s all true. Aside from demanding the truth, I haven’t spoken to Jamison in weeks.

I’m too damn mad to forgive him. At him.

At myself. And maybe a little bit mad at Jordan, too. Because he let me believe it.

Why didn’t he just tell me that Jamison was lying? Why did he just tell me to go home and forget about him instead of defending himself that day? What did my brother do that was so bad that Jordan would rather let me hate him than tell me the truth?

Jamison ruined his life. Why keep protecting him?

It just doesn’t make sense.

He mutters a curse, his gaze fixed on my face. “You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, princess.”

“Then tell me!” I cry quietly, resisting the urge to stomp my foot. “Why did you attack Jamison? Why’d he lie about it? What did he do?”

Jordan gives his head a sharp shake. “Are you here for him or the truth?”

I hesitate for a long moment, not sure how to answer that question.

Not entirely sure why I rushed here as soon as I knew.

I want the truth, desperately. I wanted to see him again so badly that it hurts.

I couldn’t stay away any longer. But…I need his help, too.

I know he won’t give it to me. He doesn’t owe me that.

But I came anyway. Because…because he’s Jordan, and I’ve already spent too damn long trying to pretend that every inch of my heart doesn’t still belong to him.

“I wanted to see you, but things are bad, Jordan. Really bad,” I finally whisper. “You were the only one who could ever–”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, his voice full of resignation. “You’re here trying to clean up his mess.”

“No!”

“You sure about that?”

I narrow my eyes on him. “I’ve never lied to you.”

He grunts like he doesn’t believe me.

“I haven’t!”

“No,” he says after a beat. “You just ripped my goddamn heart out of my chest.”

“W-what?” I gape at him, shocked.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” he says, his voice a soft rasp.

“I followed you everywhere. Christ, I couldn’t keep my goddamn eyes off you.

” He laughs, a bitter, mocking laugh. “Your fucking brother thought I was looking at his girlfriend, but I never saw her. The only fucking thing I ever saw was you .”

“Jordan, I…”

He touches my cheek, muttering a curse. “Guess Jamison was right when he warned me that I’d lose everything if I didn’t keep my fucking mouth shut, wasn’t he, princess?”

“W-what?”

He sighs instead of answering. “Just go home, Sutton. I don’t have the answers you're looking for. I never did. And hell will freeze over before I help you with that prick.”

I stare after him, shocked silent as he stomps back to his truck. He just… Jesus. I think he just admitted that he was in love with me back then. No. I know he just admitted it.

Jordan was in love with me.

Tears slip down my cheek as he drives off. This wasn’t the answer I came here looking for. I think this one hurts a hell of a lot worse than whatever I thought I’d find. Because Jamison’s lie didn’t just break my heart.

It broke Jordan’s, too.