I didn’t know when the tear spilled over, but I felt it drop onto my dress, and I blinked rapidly, wiping my face.
And then my eye caught something, and I blinked again, noticing someone else in the room. Another girl, nearly naked in her bra and panties.
I swallowed a gasp, sucked in air, and then swallowed again.
What the hell?
She walked across the room – she must’ve been over by the windows, because I hadn’t seen her until now – and leaned down, kissing Jax hard.
Acid bile crept up my throat.
“Ugh!” I growled, and stumbled backward, hitting the opposite wall in the entryway. Scrambling, I yanked open the front door and flew outside without looking back.
Jumping the steps, I had hit the grass running when a deep voice commanded behind me, “Stop!”
I didn’t.
Screw him. Screw Jaxon Trent. I didn’t know why I was mad, and who the hell cared?
Running across the lawn, I bolted for the sidewalk, wishing I’d worn sneakers instead of sandals that flopped around on my feet.
“Stop, or I will take you to the ground, K.C.!” Jax’s loud bellow threatened behind me, and I brought myself to a sudden halt.
Shit. My eyes darted from left to right, searching for an escape. He wouldn’t really do that, would he?
I inched around slowly, watching as he stepped off the stairs and walked toward me. He was wearing pants, thank God. But I guess that was easy, since he never really took them off. The dark-washed jeans hung off his hips, and I got a damn clear look at the muscles framing his abs. He had a swimmer’s body, but I wasn’t sure if he was actually a swimmer. From the way the top of his jeans barely hung just above his hairline, I guessed he wasn’t wearing boxers… or anything under the jeans. I thought of what was just beneath his pants, and heat warmed my belly. I clenched my thighs together.
I shot my eyes down to the ground, wondering how I could stand the sight of him. He was just a kid. Did he do things like that with a lot of girls?
He came up to stand in front of me, hovering down, since he was nearly a half foot taller. “What are you doing here?” he accused.
I locked my mouth shut and scowled at the air around him, still avoiding eye contact.
“You left with your dipshit boyfriend an hour ago,” he pointed out.
I kept my hot eyes averted.
“K.C.!” He shoved his hand in my face, snapping his fingers a few times. “Let’s process what you just saw in there. You entered my house uninvited in the middle of the night and witnessed me having sex with a girl in the privacy of my own home. Now let’s move on. Why are you roaming around in the dark alone?”
I finally looked up and sneered. I always had to do that to cover up the way my face felt on fire at the sight of his blue eyes. For someone so dark and wild, his eyes were completely out of place but never seemed wrong. They were the color of a tropical sea. The color of the sky right before storm clouds rolled in. Tate called them azure. I called them hell.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I took a deep breath. “Liam’s too drunk to drive, all right?” I bit out. “He passed out in the car.”
He looked down the street to where Liam’s car sat and narrowed his eyes before scowling back down at me. “So why can’t you drive him home?” he asked.
“I can’t drive a clutch.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. Running his hand through his hair, he stopped and fisted it midstroke. “Your boyfriend is a fucking idiot,” he snarled, and then dropped his hand, looking exasperated.
I sighed, not wanting to get into it. He and Liam never got along, and while I didn’t know why, I did know it was mostly Jax’s fault.
I’d known him for almost a year, and even though I knew small details – he was into computers, his real parents weren’t around, and he thought of his brother’s mother as his own – he was still a mystery to me. All I knew was that he looked at me sometimes, and lately, it was with disdain. As if he was disappointed.
I tipped my chin up and kept my tone flat. “I knew Tate was staying with Jared tonight, and I didn’t want to wake up her dad to let me in the house to crash. I need her to help me get Liam home and to let me in her house. Is she up?” I asked.
He shook his head, and I wasn’t sure if that meant “no” or “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Digging in his jeans pocket, he pulled out keys. “I’ll drive you home.”
“No,” I rushed. “My mom thinks I’m staying at Tate’s tonight.”
His eyes narrowed on me, and I felt judged. Yeah, I was lying to my mother to spend the night with my boyfriend. And, yes, I was eighteen years old and still not allowed the freedom of an adult. Stop looking at me like that.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, and then turned around, walking back to his house.