Pieces of Summer (A stand-alone novel)

Aidan reluctantly allows Whit to pull him away when she returns and grows impatient with his dawdling, and I turn to ask Chase to get up at the same time he cuts his cold eyes toward me.

“What the fuck are you doing here, and why the hell did you build our bowling alley?” he bites out.

Definitely wasn’t expecting him to ask that.

“I just want to go home. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you still lived here, okay? Last I checked, you moved. And yes, I did check.”

“I moved back,” he clips out.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

We glare at each other for several long minutes until I get annoyed with the fact my body is actually reacting to him. His voice is like sex on gravel. Well, sex on gravel sounds painful, but then again, so is hearing the way he speaks to me.

It’s a deep voice with a rough undercurrent. His hair is inky black and longer than the super short strands he once kept. It’s that slacker sexy look, peeking out from under the hat in a messy way. How it makes him look sexier, I don’t know.

His body is strong and toned, but he’s not bulky. It’s like the boy I knew was swallowed up by the man in front of me. The cold man with no trace of warmth left in him.

“What happened to you?” I ask without thinking.

His lips thin, and he cocks his head to the side. “I grew up. Now tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.”

The harsh tone startles the woman in the booth behind us. Several pairs of eyes swing our way, everyone looking at him more than me. His dad used to have a nasty reputation for beating the shit out of Chase’s mother. At least until Chase got big enough to fight for her. Not that she deserved the love or care Chase showed her.

Now everyone is looking at him like he’s going to do the same thing to me. No matter how much he’s changed, that’s one thing I’m not worried about.

“I bought my dad’s house,” I say quietly, not willing to elaborate.

“Why? And why did you fucking buy the bowling alley? Why aren’t you a doctor in New York or something?”

Why the hell would I be a doctor in New York? How does he know I was ever even in New York?

Just the mention of it has a cold chill spreading across my neck.

“Probably because I never went to medical school. Can you please let me out? I want to get away from all of this tension. I have to work with Whit. It’s awkward enough. Why did you tell her I took your virginity?”

I immediately regret saying that so loud when the woman behind us makes a strangled noise. Chase’s lips twitch as he leans closer.

“Because it’s the truth. Saying I should have lied to my girlfriend?” he asks, sounding as though he’s taunting me.

“Well, did you tell her everything? If not, then that part could have been excluded. For some reason, she thinks I’m a hell of a lot more special than I am because of that.” My eyes narrow, and I refuse to inhale through my nose, because his scent is all around me, suffocating me, leaving me lightheaded.

He doesn’t smell like a boy using cheap soap anymore. Not that it was ever a bad smell. It was always a comforting smell. Now he smells intimidating—figuratively. He smells like spice and sex wrapped around a body meant for seduction.

“Why the bowling alley, Mika?” He spits my name out like it tastes bitter in his mouth.

“Why are you the one acting pissed at me when I’m the only one here who has the right to be pissed?”

The tattoo that crawls up his neck draws my eyes to it, and I see the tips of wings there.

“You still haven’t answered my questions,” he says quieter, almost sounding strained.

It takes me a second to realize I’ve leaned in closer in my pursuit to see his neck tattoos, and my breath is blowing back from his neck to my face. Yeah… That close.

I jerk back like I’ve just touched a hot stove, and a small smirk appears on his lips as though he’s enjoying the fact I feel like an idiot.

“You haven’t answered mine either,” I retort.

“Looks like we’re at a stalemate then.” His eyes sparkle with annoying amusement, and I look away.

“Can I please get out?” I ask through gritted teeth.

Anything to do with Chase James is a slippery slope for me. A very, scary, slippery slope that will end like a shit-storm with no disaster relief teams.

He slips out of the booth, and waves his hand with flourish like he’s gesturing, “as you wish, milady.”

Smartass.

Aidan and Whit are nowhere to be seen, which is good, considering I know I’m flushed and furious and annoyed… and…and… There’s another word I’m looking for, but it seems to be eluding me at the moment.

I’m glad I’m in sneakers, but I wish I had worn something other than jeans, considering my body hasn’t gotten as used to the heat and humidity as the natives.

Thunder crackles above, as though the sky is laughing at me, punctuating my shitty day. Sure enough, when the rain starts to fall, it rips free like a hole is torn in the sky, pummeling me as I run toward my house.

Once upon a time, I loved the summer storms in Hayden because Chase was always there to distract me from being scared.

C.M. Owens's books