CHAPTER ONE, SNEAK PEEK (unedited)

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HANNAH

 

I’d never been a betting woman. In fact, I tended to be risk averse. But I would have put good money down on the possibility of ever crossing paths again with Ross London as zero to minus infinity.

Like never ever again, as long as we both shall live.

But now as I sat across from my brother having lunch, an event that some would say was historic considering his packed work-slash-womanizing schedule, the odds were astronomical for both occurrences to happen on the same day.

Appetite ruined, I lowered my favorite sandwich back onto the plate as I maintained eye contact with my onetime nemesis, who showed absolutely no sign of surprise at seeing me. But his brothers sure did.

All three London brothers at one time had kept the truancy officers and teenage girls of Pineville consistently occupied. Two out of the three had ended up living respectable lives, both now happily married and settled. The third, I had no idea. Respectable? I doubted it. Settled and married? Lord help the woman who had tied herself to the youngest London brother.

But right now, my level of pissed off had yet to filter over to Jett as he dug into his Reuben. He’d spent the last ten minutes talking non-stop about his expansion plans for his tattoo parlor. Not that I expected him to pick up on my shift in energy. But it would have been nice for once. And some warning that his long-lost best friend was back in town would have been better.

“Masters, I thought we were meeting up later. Man, it’s been too long,” Ross broke away from his brothers, stopping next to our table. Like, right next. His hard to miss large hands spanned his hips as he settled his stance. And oh-m-gee, his even harder to miss muscled thighs were smack dab at my eye level, making it nearly impossible for me to look away.

How many years had it been since I was this close to Ross? Had I ever been this close to him? Biting my tongue to hold in a groan, or was that a moan? No matter, my thoughts swirled in panic as that old frustration, and okay attraction overwhelmed me. An attraction I thought I’d effectively shoved in a vault sixteen years ago.

Always having to hide my reaction to Ross each time he visited our house, or every day in high school, there had been a time when I’d secretly hoped he liked me. But that girl was gone, and as the seconds passed and I didn’t drool down my chin, I silently congratulated myself on remaining in control. Until a waft of his aftershave hit me.

The same damn aftershave he wore all those years ago. A dangerous mix of sandalwood and man. Because there’d been nothing boyish about Ross in high school. He was, and probably still is, six feet three inches tall. Back then he had been made of lean muscle mixed with a pent-up rage born of a chaotic home life, producing a bad boy no girl could ignore. Including me.

Unfortunately, I’d been a favorite target of his and not in a good way. He’d been my tormentor and secret crush throughout high school.

Memories continued to slam into me as Jett shot out of the booth and bear-hugged his long-lost best friend. A friend he apparently had plans with later but neglected to tell me, or that Ross had returned after almost sixteen years.

Selfishly, I’d been thankful that Ross had broken his promise to Jett to keep in touch. My brother had acted as if it had never bothered him, moving on with his life, and going to college on a baseball scholarship. Even when Jett was drafted into the big leagues, he never once mentioned wishing Ross had been around to celebrate with him.

But seeing the man who’d made my high school years, if not a living hell, then utterly confusing as I battled daily between my teenage lust and pure hatred for him. Ross might have been Jett’s best friend, but he’d been my worst enemy.

Oh, there’d been the odd occurrence when I’d catch him staring at me almost quizzically, like I was a problem to be solved. On those occasions, my imagination ran wild; and I’d pretend he saw me as a ripe apple ready to be plucked. And yeah, I really wanted him to pluck me.

But then he’d ruin my daydream, shake his head and unleash an epic put-down on my choice of outfits or my obsession with art and painting. I had no trouble snapping right back at him, usually about his poor choice in girlfriends.

Unfortunately, when I complained to Jett, he’d defend Ross, saying his friend was only looking out for me when it came to boys. As if Ross was supposed to be another brother or my protector or something. In Jett’s eyes, his best friend would never belittle me, so I stopped trying.

But as bad as it was, nothing kept me from imagining Ross late at night as I hugged my pillow, pretending it was him. Or when he dated a cheerleader and would have his arm over her shoulder, I secretly wished I was the one he wanted in his arms.

But most of all, I wished he hadn’t been my brother’s best friend.

“Bro, it’s damn good to see you. Sit down. You remember my sister, Hannah, right? Sis, you don’t mind if he joins us?” Jett looked toward me, a huge grin on his face, clueless to the inner anxiety storm doing battle inside me.

What was even worse was the look on Ross’ face as both men waited for my answer. There was no hatred, only intense interest. The kind I would have swooned over in school.

Then I did what I hadn’t done since high school. I froze.

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