Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy Book 1) Page 11

  “I liked our one-on-one time tonight.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except for the actual basketball-playing part.”

  “So a sports date is out?”

  “Sports date. Like we go to a sporting event?”

  “No. Like we play racquetball or golf. Maybe go rock climbing or to a batting cage to hit baseballs.”

  “Boone. Those are horrible ideas for dates.”

  I laughed.

  She grabbed the plate of brownies. “You have my number, West.”

  That was better than I’d hoped for. “See you around, McKay.”

  After she left I sliced off a chunk of brownie—a huge chunk, Mase could suck it since Sierra spoiled him with this all the damn time—and poured myself a glass of milk.

  My thoughts wandered to Sierra’s earlier comments about rules. Specifically the “unspoken” rules that had existed between us. Rules I’d set, but she’d abided by without question.

  Total dick move.

  Yet we’d ended up better friends for it. Sierra was the first girl I’d had a real friendship with. I’d loved every minute of how she’d been able to give me shit and take it without getting all weepy and girly. Or throwing herself at me.

  I remembered too, the last day things had been easy like that between us; the week of prom. A prom that I hadn’t asked her to, for a number of reasons, so I’d been avoiding her. But I’d seen her across the football field after school, her hair shining in the sun almost as brightly as her smile, that goddamn laugh of hers drifting to me on the spring breeze and once again, I couldn’t resist the pull of her…

  I waited, oh, three minutes after her good buddy Marin took off before I strolled over to where Sierra sat in the grass. My heart sped up like it did every time I saw her.

  Sierra gave me a droll stare.

  I flopped beside her, stretching out on my back and groaning, “Man, I’m so fucking whupped.”

  “No, Hi, Sierra, how are you today? No, I’ve been ditching your calls because I pulled a muscle in my phone-dialing finger? Just I’m so fucking whupped?”

  “Touchy today, aren’t we?” I filled both hands with grass and showered her with it.

  “Hey! That’s it. I’m leaving.”

  She looked so damn cute when she pretended to be mad at me.

  Then Sierra started to stand, so I grabbed her around the waist, tackled her to the ground and rolled her in the grass, ignoring her yelps.

  I kept my hand on her stomach, holding her in place, and I leaned over her. “Hey. If it isn’t sexy Sierra McKay. You’re looking damn fine today. Is that a new shirt? It does amazing things for your…eyes.” I aimed a quick grin at her. “Did you do something different with your hair? The chocolate-colored tresses are so silky and shiny in this sunlight.”

  “You’re a dickhead. And I’m still mad at you.”

  “No, you’re not.” You’re as crazy about me as I am about you and that sucks.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Then how come you’re still here?”

  Sierra pointedly glared at my hand pressing into her stomach, my fingers spread out like a starfish so I could touch as much of her skin as possible. But the heat created some kind of suction with my palm and I felt her belly ripple from my touch. No freakin’ way was I moving my hand now.

  Those striking whiskey-colored eyes met mine.

  I wanted to know what she was thinking as she gazed up at me. Did she see the same longing in my eyes that I saw in hers?

  Then she looked at me with regret and forced herself to sit up, dislodging my hand. “You suck at returning text messages, West.”

  “I’ve been studying for finals and covering Alan’s shift since he’s on vacation. Or I’ve been working out.”

  “I can tell. You’ve got some beefy biceps going on.”

  I lifted my arms and flexed. “Check ’em out. Go on.”

  She bumped me with her shoulder. “No. It might compromise your virtue if people saw me feeling you up.”

  “Might be worth it.” I let my gaze take in every nuance of her pretty face. I wanted so badly to trace the curve of her stubborn jaw. Once with my fingers. Once with my mouth. A breeze wafted over us, ruffling her hair, which still had green chunks twisted in it. “Sorry for throwing grass at you.” I started to lean in and noticed Sierra’s focus was on my throat. Could she see how being this close to her sent my pulse pounding? I plucked two pieces of grass out and let them spiral to the ground.

  “Boone—”

  “Relax,” I said gruffly. “I’ll get ’em out.”

  She remained motionless as I began at her scalp and worked my way down the silken strands of her hair. She had to know I was deliberately dragging this out. But I had this chance—it might be the last one to touch her casually—so I took it.

  “Why didn’t you return my texts?” she asked.

  “I suck at texting. What did you need to talk to me about?”

  Once again, Sierra’s gaze roved over my face. She saw too much, the intensity in my eyes, the change in my breathing, my lips parted to release shallow breaths, the hard set to my jaw as I fought the urge to press my lips to that sexy, sassy mouth of hers.

  When she continued studying me, I murmured, “Sierra?”

  “Oh. Right. I wanted to see if you were coming to the branding next Saturday. You don’t have to help with the actual work part, just come to the after-party.”

  “Why the invite? The McKays need a West whipping boy? Or are your dad, psycho uncles and cousins gonna castrate me?”

  She turned her head and sank her teeth into my wrist. Hard.

  “Jesus, McKay! Let go.”

  She slid her mouth free and licked her lips. “Yep. As salty as I expected.”

  “What’d you do that for?” And why had I liked that bite of pain? I imagined her dragging her lips across the red marks as she looked up at me with those big, questioning eyes.

  “Because you’re being a dick.”

  “Remind me not to really piss you off,” I muttered.

  “Too late. I’m already mad at you. Anyway, I’m filling in the blanks on the McKay/West feud for the entire McKay family. I wondered if you wanted to be there since you helped with the research.”

  I pulled a section of her hair from the corner of her mouth and tucked it behind her ear. “I can’t. I’m working a twelve that day.”

  Disappointment flooded her face.

  “But I heard there’s a pre-graduation party at Phil Nickels’ parents’ cabin at the lake that night.”

  She said, “Are you going?”

  “I wouldn’t have told you about it if I wasn’t.”

  “Cool. Then I’ll show up. Think Angie, Kara and Tyler will be there?”

  “I’ll flatten that fucker Tyler if he comes anywhere near you.” I didn’t bother to hide the menace in my tone.

  “So we’ll have to pretend we’re together again?”

  God, I hope so. “Maybe.”

  “You have to be tired of that.”

  “Never.” I needed to get things back on the friendship track so I lightly butted her forehead with mine. “I gotta finish my workout. See you around, McKay.”

  “Dude. Tell me you did not eat the last fuckin’ brownie!”

  I blinked at Mase and the memory disappeared. “No. There’s a couple left. Brownie hoarder much?”

  “So? I never get home-baked stuff. Ain’t no one said I gotta share.”

  “He’d rather have a plate of homemade cookies than a blowjob,” Hayden said, hobbling to the counter.

  Mase nodded. “True dat. Any chick can learn to give a great blowjob, but learning to make killer desserts is a fucking art form.”

  Kyler followed Anton into the kitchen. He smirked at me. “Sierra looked a little mussed up when she walked by. Were you making time in the kitchen? Or did you go back outside and get distracted looking for that poor lost pussy?”

  “Jesus, Kyler.”

  He laughed. “Don’t even fucking start with m
e, West. I owe you.”

  “But when you two do finally find the balls to get balling, don’t do it here, okay?” Hayden said. “I don’t need to hear you doing my cousin, cuz.”

  “I find this whole cousin stuff…disconcerting,” Mase said.

  “Wow, Mase, big word,” Anton said, clicking away on his phone. “I’m proud.”

  “Gotta keep up with you college guys. But you hafta admit it is weird. Sierra is your cousin”—he pointed to Kyler, Anton and Hayden—“but she’s not yours.” He pointed to me. “And yet they’re all your cousins, but she isn’t.”

  I shrugged. “No different than you being cousin to Ky and no one else.”

  Hayden leaned forward and slapped Mase on the arm. “You totally dropped the puck. You aren’t related to Sierra, so you could’ve made a play for her and her tasty baked goods.”

  “Sierra is smokin’ hot, don’t get me wrong; she’s too bossy for me. I want a sweet, docile woman who bakes like Betty fuckin’ Crocker and looks like Selena Gomez.” Mase sent Anton a look. “Hey, cowboy. Your sister Liesl bakes, right? How old is she?”

  Without looking up from his phone, Anton said, “I will shove a hockey stick up your ass and turn you into a human Popsicle if I ever see you eyeballin’ my sister, puckhead.”

  That was my cue to go. “Good luck at the game on Saturday, Ky.”

  “Win or lose, there’s a party here Saturday night. Swing by if you have a chance.”

  Lu had been complaining all week that she was bored.

  Every night she dared me to mix up my routine and go out with her.

  Monday night I passed on heading to the strip club—despite her cajoling that her favorite “strip and go naked” drinks were two for the price of one.

  Tuesday night I was so keyed up after my PCE meeting that I would’ve accepted her invite to play craps at the Talking Stick Casino if I hadn’t gotten cornered by a new member.

  Wednesday night I worked late and came home to find Lu splashing in the pool naked with a dick-that-fits contender.

  So Thursday night when my phone rang and my hands were wrist-deep in dishwater, she said, “Hot damn!” and answered the call on speakerphone.

  “Sierra’s phone, Lu speaking. Whatcha need?”

  “Hey Lu. Uh, you’re Sierra’s roommate?”

  “Roommate, groundskeeper, pool boy when my wild girl wants to role play.” Lu added a loud rowr.

  “Jesus, Lu, knock it the hell off. Just ignore her, Boone.”

  “Is this a bad time?”

  “No, it’s the perfect time because I’m bored out of my mind,” Lu answered. “Please say you called to offer us entertainment options, Mr. Sexy Voice.”

  “Actually, that’s why I called. Wanna meet at Blue Smoke? Shoot some pool and have a drink with us?” Boone asked.

  “Who’s us?”

  “Me and my roommate.”

  I started to say, “That sounds—”

  “Like a snooze fest,” Lu said with a yawn. “It’s Thursday night—Ladies’ Night! I wanna dance and drink two-for-ones on your dime.”

  “So get your rowdy selves to Diego’s.” another voice in the background said.

  Evidently Boone had us on speakerphone too.

  “Do you know where that is?”

  Lu snorted. “I haven’t always lived in Scottsdale. We’ll be there in forty-five.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course Lu knew where Diego’s was; she prided herself on finding places to party outside of the normal college zone.

  “Halleluiah!” Lu grabbed the dishtowel, wound it up and popped me in the ass. “Get moving, we have to leave here in fifteen.”

  “Ouch! God, Lu. That mark is gonna swell up.”

  “Better have Boone look at it. He’s a professional.” She waggled her eyebrows. “You want to turn the other cheek—ha-ha—and have me put one there too? It’ll give you a valid reason to drop your pants when you first see him.”

  “You are literally a pain in my ass.”

  She yelled, “You’re welcome!” as I booked it up the stairs.

  When I entered the kitchen fourteen minutes later Lu made a sizzling sound. “Looking hot tonight, S. Man, I wish we were the same size. I’d love to wear those leather pants.”

  I adjusted the bottom of the bronze and black peasant blouse. “It’s not too over the top for a weeknight?”

  “Nope. It’s so you, Sierra. Classy club wear.”

  “Thanks. And check you out in the snakeskin dress.” Lu was all muscles and curves. And pigtails. I swore before she graduated I’d drag her to the salon and force her to ditch the Baby Spice look.

  “You driving?” She shoved her cell phone in her small purse. “Maybe I should drive too. That way if you and Boone hook up…”

  “Not happening tonight.”

  “I noticed you didn’t say ‘not ever happening’ which means it could happen tonight.”

  The more I argued the more she’d keep at me and probably relay our entire conversation to Boone just to see my reaction. “So are we both driving or what?”

  “Yes. You’ll have to follow me since I know a shortcut.”

  I cranked the music in my car, singing along, so my head was full of lyrics, not possibilities about tonight.

  Diego’s sat on the outskirts of Glendale in a strip mall, surrounded by other bars and restaurants. There seemed to be everything from a honky-tonk, to a karaoke bar, to sports pubs.

  I parked next to Lu in the jam-packed lot. We fell in step as we headed to Diego’s, which didn’t have a line to get in like many of the clubs, especially on ladies’ night.

  “You’ve been here?” I asked.

  “A few times. It’s even busier on the weekends. Sometimes they have great bands, but during the week it’s just a DJ.”

  The bouncer checked our IDs, stamped the backs of our hands and waived the cover fee.

  Once we were inside, Lu said, “Let’s walk through.” A mere ten steps later a trio of guys intercepted us.

  “Looking good for ladies’ night,” the cute guy in the middle drawled. “There’s room at our table.”

  “Aren’t you just sweet,” Lu said with a huge smile. “Right now we’re looking for our friends.”

  “If they’re as hot as you, invite them too.”

  Lu steered us away. We’d reached the end of the first row when two burly guys invited us to join them.

  Again, Lu dealt with letting them down with a wink, a flirty pat on the arm and a cooing bye-bye. I attributed her unparalleled man-handling technique to her near-professional dating status. While I enjoyed college parties, in clubs I felt like I was on display—guys gauged you as a potential hookup; women eyed you as competition.

  “Do you see him yet?”

  Then there he was.

  A bottle of beer in his hand, the lights from the bar providing backlight that outlined his smoking body. He wore a tight, black, short-sleeved T-shirt that hugged the muscles in his shoulders, biceps and chest as if the material had been specifically designed for him. His angular face had a hint of scruff and my belly fluttered because it made him that much more gorgeous. Although half a dozen women surrounded him—no surprise there—he never focused on any one in particular. He kept scanning the area.

  For me.

  That was some heady stuff.

  He’d always had this way of finding me in a crowd. When those dark eyes locked with mine, I felt the power of this connection between us down to the marrow of my bones.

  Boone smiled—god, that smile was a freakin’ beacon—and I started toward him like I was being pulled in by a tractor beam.

  His eyes heated, his nostrils flared and he set his beer aside, muttering apologies as he cut through his throng of admirers and moved with one purpose: getting to me.

  Maybe I’d been too hasty denying I’d end up in bed with him tonight, because right now, stripping this man naked and seeing his hot look of utter possession as he fucked me was the best idea in the history of the wo
rld.

  We met in the middle…and that’s when it became awkward.

  Boone tempered the lust in his eyes. Yet, he slowly slid his rough-skinned palm up the outside of my arm in a caress so erotic I felt it sizzle across my entire body. He dipped his head and brushed his cheek against mine. “You look stunning as always, McKay.”

  “So you were checking out my kickin’ clubbing outfit?”

  “You’re not stunning because of what you wear.”

  An African-American guy with a shaved head and amazing bone structure sidled up beside Boone. But before he said anything, his focus locked on someone behind me.

  It was a natural instinct to turn around and look, even when I knew exactly who had grabbed his attention.

  Lu.

  I turned back around quickly and caught Boone eyeing my ass.

  He flashed me that panty-melting grin. “You and leather? Stuff fantasies are made from, sexy.”

  The guy next to Boone dropped to his knees in front of Lu. “Marry me.”

  She laughed. “Aren’t you a charmer?”

  “If I say yes, can I prove it by peeling away the snakeskin that’s covering your spectacular body?”

  “Only if you use your teeth.” She cocked her head. “Blindfolded.”

  He clasped his hands together in front of her. “I think I love you.”

  “Knock it off, Raj,” Boone said.

  Raj rolled to his feet and demanded, “Woman, what is your name?”

  “Lu.”

  “Lu? Huh-uh. That’s the name of a car mechanic. An old, balding white guy with a stogie in one hand and dirty magazine in the other. Your mama did not birth an angel and name her Lu. Baby, what is your real name?”

  I held my breath. Lu hated her name. Her nickname growing up had been Lug—a double whammy, a dig at her name and her size. She’d christened herself Lu the first day of college.

  She offered her hand. “Lucinda Grace.”

  What the hell? She’d told him her middle name without making him work for it?

  Raj ran his mouth across her knuckles and nuzzled the inside of her wrist. “I’m Raj. The man who’s gonna ruin you for all other men.”