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  “It’s personal.” My heart beats a little faster at the contact, which is silly because he’s practically family.

  Our fathers had been friends since they were kids. And there wasn’t anything my dad wouldn’t do for the man and his sons, including pretty much adopting them after their mother passed away eight years ago.

  Liam and Colin would stay with us when their father had to go out of town for work. Now they came by whenever he was on one of his benders.

  Like right now.

  Steve Forrester is a difficult man to like. My mom insists he wasn’t always so severe, that it was only after his wife’s death that he changed, became the insufferable ass who’s constantly yelling at Thunder, pushing him to be as good as Colin at everything, especially hockey.

  Which is ridiculous because Liam is good.

  Really good.

  The problem is Colin is better. At seventeen, he’s already being scouted by some of the top teams, and will most likely be the first draft pick next year.

  Most people think they’re twins because they’re in the same grade, but there’s actually eleven months between them.

  Irish twins, my mom calls them.

  And with Colin being born in January and Liam in December, it means they’re constantly competing against each other—at everything.

  Hockey.

  School.

  Girls.

  To call their relationship volatile is an understatement. I’ve never met two people who butt heads more often than they do. The only thing they seem to agree on is that no guy is or will ever be good enough to date me.

  Not that I want to date just any guy. The one I want to date is sitting right beside me.

  The one that is completely and utterly off limits.

  Forearms already covered in ink, muscles tensing and rippling under his tight black t-shirt, Liam Thunder Forester doesn’t just look bad.

  He is bad.

  At least for me.

  He’s everything I’m not.

  Dark.

  Dangerous.

  And so damn sexy.

  He’s already broken more hearts than I can count.

  I sigh, still clutching the notebook to my chest. “Can we just watch a show or something?”

  “Why all the secrecy?” Colin moves towards me, and I can tell he’s not going to let up. “What do you have in there? Your confession of who you’re crushing on?”

  Liam grunts beside me.

  I shake my head, but I know the heat that creeps up my cheeks gives me away.

  “Shit. I’m right.” One blond eyebrow goes up, and Colin chuckles. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

  I feel Liam tense beside me, then he pulls away slightly, so that he’s no longer touching me.

  “How d'you guess?” I roll my eyes. “Who isn’t in love with you?”

  “True.” Colin gives me a dimpled grin, the one that all the girls swoon over.

  Everyone but me.

  I love Colin. But not like that. He’s the closest thing to a brother I have. I know I should feel the same way about Thunder—but I don’t.

  What I feel for him is… complicated.

  “Leave her alone.” Thunder stretches back, clearly over teasing me, and turns on the television.

  With a snort, Colin sits on the other side of me, sandwiching me between the two of them.

  They’re both huge, almost an entire foot taller than me, and neither one has any qualms about taking up more than their share of the couch.

  I know every girl in school would be jealous of me right now. My best friend Kiley lets me know at every opportunity how freaking lucky I am to be so close to the Forrester brothers.

  What she and everyone else doesn’t believe is that there’s nothing but friendship between us.

  I’ve been the subject of some pretty raunchy rumors because of my relationship with them, because of how much time we spend together.

  But hell, I still haven’t even kissed a guy. Not really. Not unless you count New Year’s Eve.

  Best night of my life.

  Who needed fireworks when they’d shot off inside me like a million volts of electricity sparking every nerve in my body when Thunder’s lips had brushed against mine for a millisecond.

  It was just once, and he’d been drinking. I doubt he even remembers it happening.

  Me on the other hand, I can’t forget—no matter how hard I try. And I’ve tried. Because I know that nothing will ever happen between us.

  Ever.

  Thunder hates when anyone assumes we’re more than just friends. He gave Jeremy Hudson a black eye and bloody lip last year when the douchebag told half the school that I was having sex with both brothers.

  Jeremy was just mad that I kept turning him down, but Thunder saw red, and it took five guys to pull him off the asshole.

  He’s always been overprotective with me, which is why I know he’ll never see me as anything more than a friend; or worse, a little sister.

  The three of us sit there in silence, watching the stupid football game that Thunder turned on.

  I should be studying for mid-terms, or finishing my English assignment, but their father’s been on a four-day bender, one of his more violent ones, and I know neither one of them wants to go home.

  With a heavy sigh, I snuggle into the couch, my notebook now thankfully forgotten.

  Thunder’s knee touches mine. Barely. But I can feel the heat, the crazy electricity that pulses between us.

  I freeze.

  Butterflies.

  My breathing speeds up and my palms start to sweat.

  Get a grip, Kennedy.

  Biting my bottom lip, I pray that he doesn’t notice my reaction. But I’m pretty sure the temperature in the room just raised ten degrees, because the back of my neck begins to sweat.

  I wish I could go back to the way things used to be, before my body turned into an uncontrollable inferno of hormones around him, but the more I try to ignore my feelings, the worse they get.

  Luckily, he hasn’t seemed to notice. And I plan to keep it that way, which is why I continue to clutch the damn notebook to my chest.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “This game is boring,” Colin says, and before I know what he’s doing, the book is snatched from my grip, and he’s jumping from the couch.

  “Give it back!” My voice comes out in a shriek.

  Colin laughs and starts flipping through the pages.

  Fear burns a path up my throat. I never should have written what I did, but my English teacher asked us to make a detailed list of the people that have made the biggest impact on our lives, and what makes them unique.

  The people I chose were my mom, dad, Colin, and…Thunder.

  “What I like about Colin Forrester,” Colin reads, a cocky smile spreading across his face. His gaze meets mine, and he winks. “I knew it was about me.”

  “It’s just an assignment for school.” My skin burns so hot, I swear it’s going to blister.

  “Right.” He continues to smirk, then starts reading. “He’s kind. Funny. Always willing to help…”

  I jump from the couch and try to snatch the book back.

  Colin lifts it above his head and continues to read, “Smart. Confident. A good listener.”

  “Don’t be a jerk. Give it back.”

  Thunder continues to sit on the couch, not moving, gaze glued to the screen.

  “I never knew you thought so highly of me.” Colin winks, teasing.

  “Stop being an ass.” I hit his chest, praying that he doesn’t turn the page.

  Too late.

  His eyes go wide.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  I know what he’s reading, and I want to crawl into myself

  What I like about Thunder Forrester:

  He’s my best friend

  And I’m in love with him

  The last line is scratched out, but it’s still legible.

  Colin looks at me, brows lifted. “Love? Really?�
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  “Don’t.” I swallow hard, praying that he won’t say anything more.

  “She said give it back.” Thunder jumps from the couch, rage in his voice.

  For a heartbeat, the two of them stand nose to nose, the tension between them almost tangible. Thunder’s hands are fisted at his side, and I have no doubt that he’ll use them on Colin if he doesn’t do what he says.

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  As light, and easygoing as Colin is, Thunder is as broody and temperamental.

  You always know where you stand with Colin, but Thunder hides his emotions behind a mask of indifference, until he’s pushed too far and then you never know what he’s going to do. But it usually involves fists flying.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Colin smirks, edging Thunder on.

  “You want to find out?”

  “Stop.” I get between them, which probably isn’t the smartest move, but I know they’ll be in an all-out brawl in ten seconds if I don’t. With a hand on both of their chests, I try to push them apart, which is really a stupid move considering I don’t even come up to their shoulders. I look up at Colin, who’s usually the more reasonable of the two. “Just give it back. Please?”

  “Fine.” Colin hands the notebook back to me, but his gaze remains on Thunder as if expecting him still to strike out.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, closing it before Thunder sees what’s written there.

  I have no idea what passes between the two of them, but whatever it is stirs an animal-like growl in Thunder’s chest.

  Colin just chuckles in response, then places a heavy arm over my shoulder, which only makes Thunder’s face turn a darker shade of red.

  “Don’t worry.” Colin leans down, and whispers in my ear, “I already knew.”

  Oh. If it’s possible, I swear I blush even harder.

  He shakes his head at both of us, then saunters out of the room leaving me alone with Thunder, who continues to scowl after him.

  When Thunder turns back to me, there’s blue fire in his eyes.

  He looks angry. Really angry.

  His nostrils flare, and his mouth presses into a hard line when he glances down at the notebook in my hand.

  “What?” I chew on the inside of lip.

  “Nothing.” He drops back on the couch heavily.

  When I sit beside him he doesn’t put his arm around me like he usually does.

  “It was only an assignment,” I mumble. “It didn’t mean anything.”

  Did he see what I wrote about him?

  “What do I care?” His gaze is sharp and as cutting as his words. “It’s just a stupid crush.”

  A stupid crush.

  Something inside my chest shatters. And I know in that moment that not only did he see what I wrote about him, but that he’s right, what I feel for him is nothing more than a stupid crush. And in that second, I hate him for it.

  Chapter 3

  Present

  Thunder

  Standing outside the rundown apartment, I glance up at the third-story window with its sunflower yellow curtains, and inhale roughly.

  I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t my damn problem. But I can’t stop the voice in the back of my head demanding that I go to her. To make sure she’s all right.

  A shadow darkens the window, then disappears.

  Kennedy.

  My pulse begins to race, and I curse myself for it.

  She doesn’t want you, asshole.

  I drag my fingers through my hair and exhale, then start up the cement steps towards the building.

  Pressing the buzzer, I wait, but she doesn’t answer. I press again. Nothing.

  I pull out my spare key, the one she gave me when I helped her move into this dump. I know I’ve lost my right to use it, but right now all I care about is getting the answers I should have asked months ago.

  Instead, I’d left, went off the grid completely. Because seeing her with my brother, knowing she chose him over me, was like a knife to the gut. A soul-crunching agony that was far worse than any physical pain I’ve ever been in.

  The elevator is out of order, so I walk the three flights of stairs. The place smells of mildew and rotting garbage, and there’s graffiti spray painted on the cement walls.

  How the city hasn’t condemned this place is beyond me. But it’s cheap rent and with the shit salary Kennedy gets working at the Animal Shelter, I know it’s all she can afford.

  It pisses me off that the animals she takes care of live with more luxury than she does.

  But she’s too damn stubborn to accept help, even though I’ve offered multiple times.

  Staring at the rusted metal numbers on the door, I grind my back teeth and give one brief hard knock.

  The door opens slowly, and I see the shock in her gaze when it meets mine.

  Dark hair frames her delicate face, falling over her shoulders in waves. Everything about her is perfect, almost fragile in its beauty. Soft, full lips, flawless skin, but it’s her eyes that have always intrigued me. The lightest brown rimmed with thick dark lashes. The color of caramel.

  Those eyes hold my gaze now.

  “Thunder?” A flash of something that looks like hope crosses her expression, then quickly vanishes, replaced by a mask of indifference. Her shoulders straighten, and her knuckles whiten on the door that she’s holding half-open in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

  It’s a good question. One I haven’t figured the answer to.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  A small exhaled breath leaves her. “He told you?”

  No, he didn’t fucking tell me. Which pisses me off even more.

  “Can I come in?” I rough a palm over my jaw, then rub the back of my neck, praying she doesn’t slam the door in my face.

  With a small sigh, she opens the door wider. It’s then I see the baby bump that’s almost hidden under her baggy, gray t-shirt.

  I grind my back teeth together as a fresh wave of red-hot jealousy rolls through me.

  She should have been mine. The child growing inside her a part of me.

  Colin doesn’t deserve her.

  The thought of him touching her, kissing her, makes my insides turn to molten lava. I’ve never hated my brother as much as I do now.

  An awkward silence stretches between us as I follow her into the bachelor apartment.

  It’s exactly how I remember it. One room that consists of a living area-slash-bedroom, and a small kitchenette in one corner. Despite how meticulous she keeps the place, it’s hard to ignore the cracks in the plaster and the stains that she could never get out of the carpet no matter how much she scrubbed them.

  The thought of her raising a child here twists my stomach.

  “Do you want something to drink?” She moves to the far side of the room, clearly trying to keep as much physical distance between us as possible.

  “No. I’m good.” I sit down on the futon that’s been folded to resemble a couch. I forgot how uncomfortable the damn thing is. It must be a nightmare to sleep on in her condition.

  Her body language is stiff, forced, and she won’t meet my gaze when she sits down on the only real piece of furniture in the room, a brown recliner I bought for her two years ago. She’d fought me on it, until I convinced her I’d found it at one of those god-awful yard sales she was always trying to make me go to.

  A white lie, but at least she took it.

  She bites down on her bottom lip, hands moving protectively over her stomach.

  I don’t know how far along she is, but there’s nothing to her. If anything, she looks like she’s lost weight.

  Concern overrides my own unease.

  “Have you been eating?”

  Her gaze snaps to mine, and anger flashes there. “Is that what you came here to ask? To see if I’m capable of taking care of myself?”

  “That’s not what I was implying. I just…”

  “Just what?” With some effort, she stands, he
r back towards me. A quiver of emotion laces her words, “Don’t come here and act like you care. Just tell me what you want, then leave.”

  The futon creaks when I stand. “I came… to…”

  “To what?” She twists around, gaze hard on mine, almost daring me to say what I desperately want to.

  When I don’t answer right away, she shakes her head.

  The stubborn set of her jaw, the hurt and hostility emanating from her, tells me I should go, that she doesn’t want me here.

  If I didn’t know her better, I’d believe the act.

  Underneath the façade, I can tell she needs me. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, she wants me here.

  Her eyes are glassy from the tears she’s trying her best to hold back, and the small quiver of her chin tells me that the moment I walk out that door she’ll fall apart.

  Not happening.

  “I’m not leaving.” Despite her small protest, I remove the distance between us.

  Cupping her jaw in my hands, so that my thumbs brush her cheeks, my fingers tangle in the silky, dark hair at the nape of her neck.

  Forced to look at me, she sucks in a breath, and I see it—the spark.

  The acceptance.

  It’s real.

  Always was.

  I can’t believe her connection with Colin was ever this strong.

  Or I don’t want to.

  I tamp down the jealousy that threatens to boil up at the thought of him.

  This is about her. About making sure she’s taken care of.

  “I can’t…” Her eyes close and when they open again, I see the wall she’s built between us. She raises her hands, and places her palms on my chest like she’s going to push me away, but instead they just rest there.

  “I’ve missed you.” It’s the truth. Despite everything, I can’t deny how much I care for her. How much I need her in my life. Even if it’s just as friends. I know that now.

  Her body tenses, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt, and a small, almost silent sob escapes her lips. She buries her face in my chest, and I hold her until she finally lets the tears fall, and she melts into my body with the familiarity that has always been ours alone.

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