Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1) (25 page)

"Does
she
think you're getting back together?"

"I don't know what goes on in her crazy brain but we are definitely not together. A few weeks ago we talked and she asked for another chance."

"What would that be then, the hundredth chance?" I ask, unable to hide my sarcasm, which is attempting to cover up my fear of her getting him back.

"Something like that. But that was before you and I...talked." He says nervously, his eyes shifting down between us and then back up to my face.

"So you're not going to give her another chance?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I can't even consider that when all I can think about is you, now can I?"

Finally, he's saying the words I've been waiting so long to hear.

"I can't stop thinking about you, either." I say, my voice shaking in tune with my trembling insides.

"I want to show you something. That's why I pulled you in here. It's kinda your birthday present."

I'm confused as he slowly lifts his shirt up, until my eyes land on his chest, right above his heart, where there's a new tattoo of the scribbled heart drawing I made for him when I was a little girl, with the words 'i love you the most' beneath it. My breath catches as I stare at it.

"When did you get that?"

"A few weeks ago."

He moves even closer and my heart tries to break free from my chest to jump into his as he leans in to whisper in my ear.

"Do you still mean it?"

"Yes. I always will." I say breathlessly.

He leans back to look into my eyes as he pulls his shirt back down. "Good. Because it's there forever now."

"I'll mean it forever. I promise."

On impulse, I lean forward and touch my lips to his for a stolen kiss, and he inhales sharply in surprise.

"'That's what I want. So fuckin' bad." He whispers with a raspy voice as he leans his forehead against mine. "Kiss me again. Then I have to get out of here."

His hands tighten around my waist in encouragement as he waits for me, and my insecurity kicks in, knowing he's waiting for it, wanting it, and not pushing me away. I don't want to disappoint him by kissing like an eighteen-year-old virgin.

Even though I am.

Reaching up, I grasp his wide shoulders and pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist before tilting my head up to meet his lips that still have a slight taste of my birthday cake. He lets me drive the kiss, not pressing further or taking control, which I wish he would do. I want him to pull me closer and kiss me deeper like he did the other times we kissed, but he's not. He's completely still, breathing against my mouth, waiting for me.

I open my eyes to find his dark and fiery, staring into mine. Our mouths linger against each other, while my heart is fluttering in my chest like a hummingbird. He's all man between my legs and under my touch - wide, rock hard, and powerful. He smells of rain and woods and grease, and it's provocative in this tiny space of detergent and bleach. I want to pull his shirt off and run my hands over his smooth muscles, kiss him in places I've only dreamed about.

His nose nudges against mine, his lips brushing across my cheek. "You can do whatever you want," he whispers, as if he can feel all the things I'm thinking.

I
want
to do everything.

But there's some kind of disconnect between my brain, my heart, my hands, and my lips. In my mind I pulled him closer, ran my hands under his shirt and over his chest and abs as my lips trailed down his neck, chasing after my hands, tasting him, kissing the words on his chest.

Instead I plant a quick kiss on his mouth and pull away, untangling my legs from around him as he lets out a deep sigh.

"Alright," he says, his voice thick with...disappointment?

Yes. He's disappointed. In me.

My heart and stomach sink together as I jump off the clothes dryer and he moves away from me.

"You get out of here first and then I'll leave. I don't want anyone to see us coming out of here together."

"Okay," I say awkwardly, reaching for the doorknob. "Thank you for playing the songs for me, Tor. It was amazing to finally see you and hear you play."

He nods and runs his hand through his hair before meeting my eyes again. The fire is gone from them now, replaced with their usual shroud of melancholy.

"Happy birthday, Angel."

I
unlock
the door and peer outside to make sure no one is in milling around in the hallway before I leave the room and go directly upstairs to my own, closing my door behind me before I burst into tears.

I let him down. He gave me a chance to show him how I feel and what I want, and I let my nerves and inexperience get in the way and destroyed the moment.

Once again, that bitch called reality is knocking on my door, here to remind me that regardless of how we feel, I'm still a teenager, and he's still a grown man. No matter how close we might be sometimes, we are still worlds apart in so many ways.

A
fter strapping
the pink helmet onto her head, I hold the handlebars of the small bicycle I bought her for her birthday, waiting for her to get on.

"My wheels are gone." She says skeptically, touching the seat and blinking up at me.

"You don't need the training wheels anymore. You can ride it without them now, like we practiced on your old bike."

Her teeth chew her bottom lip. "Are you sure, Uncle Tor? I don't want to fall and ruin my new bike."

I lift her up and gently place her on the seat. "I'm going to run right next to you. I won't let you fall, Angel, I promise. Do you trust me?"

She smiles at me, the gold flecks in her jade eyes sparkling under the bright summer sun.

"I trust you."

I wink at her and place my hand on the back of her seat. "Okay, then. Start pedaling."

She grasps the handlebars with as serious a face a five year old can make and starts to pedal slowly, wobbling a bit. Grasping her seat, I jog next to her as she picks up momentum, and soon, she's pedaling perfectly on two wheels.

"You're doing it!" I yell, as I slow down and let her go ahead of me on her own so I can watch her.

She turns her head to look for me, turning the front tire sharply, and she goes down right in front of the neighbor’s house, arms and legs sprawling on the pavement.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, running to her. "Are you okay?" I ask her, helping her stand up.

"You made me fall," she says tearfully. "I was looking for you and I fell. You promised to stay with me."

"You're right. I just wanted to see you do it all by yourself. And you did it. You don't need me to hold you up, right?" I pick up the bike, glad to see it's not broke, but her knee is bleeding and her palm is all scraped up. Ember's going to kill me.

She glares at me and shakes her head, the helmet twisting crookedly on her head.

"It's better when you hold me up."

I take her small hand in mine. "Maybe for now you're right. Let's go back to the house and fix up your knee, okay?"

"Okay. I won't tell Mommy you let me fall."

I
don't know why
, but those little innocent words slice through my heart. I've never let her get hurt before. And no matter what, I'm never going to let it happen again.

* * *

T
ristan is standing
over me in my work area as I'm kneeling in front of this old Indian bike that I feel like I'm never going to finish. Finding parts for this bike has been nearly impossible and has put me way behind with my schedule.

"Speak or go away. I'm busy." I say, grabbing a wrench.

"I need a week off."

"Need or want?"

"Does it fuckin' matter? What's up your ass lately?"

I stand, grab a rag to wipe my hands off on, and turn to face my little brother. Even though he's twenty-four, he'll always be my little brother in my eyes.

"A week off is a long time. I'll have to rearrange some work since you're the only one who does what you do here. When do you need it?"

"In about two weeks."

Two weeks doesn't give me much time to move things around for the custom paint jobs we have booked, but Tris hardly ever asks for time off so I really can't complain.

Sighing, I nod. "Okay, then. We'll work it out. Can I ask where you're going?"

He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his faded jeans and looks down, his dirty blond hair falling down into his face.

"I'm meeting with a local service dog rep to go through the screening process for a therapy dog."

My attitude instantly diminishes. Mom and I have been after him for years to look into a therapy dog to help him with the seizures he suffers.

"Tris, that's great. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "It's just taken me a while to accept it, I guess."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

He's always tried to hide the fact that he has seizures, like he thinks there's something wrong with him. It's kept him from making friends and he's never really dated anyone, at least as far as I know. He and Tyler have both become like hermits and that worries me a lot. I don't want my brothers spending the rest of their lives alone.
Like me.

"Anyway, so now I have to meet with them in person, they do a home check, I meet with a few of the trainers, and then I get put on a waiting list for the right dog."

"Take all the time you need, then." I lightly squeeze his shoulder. "This is worth it, trust me. Do you need any money?"

"Nah, they work on donations and I already made one."

"We'll organize a ride to raise some money to donate to them, too. Does Mom know?"

"Yeah, she's the one that pushed me into it. A few of their service dogs are rescues so Mom has worked with them before."

"Good deal." I say, glad that he's going through with this decision. "This is a good thing, Tris. If it can make your life a little safer, that's all that matters. Right?"

He nods but still has that uncertain look in his grey eyes. "I hope so."

"Be positive. And hey, I wouldn't admit this normally but since I brought home that big white fluff monster, I'm not as lonely. It's nice to have him and that cat waiting for me when I get home after a long day."

Laughing, he shakes his head, turns and walks away. "I'm starting to worry about us, man." He jokes, turning his head. "We need to find us some chicks."

S
peaking of chicks
, it's been almost a week since I saw Kenzi at the bonfire, and my emotions are still all over the place from that night. The way her eyes were glued to me, glowing with a mix of love and lust as I played the guitar did way more than just turn me on like mad. It made me itch to start playing again. Every night since then I've dragged my guitar out of the closet and sat in my back yard brushing up on my old favorite songs and toying around with some new ones.

I miss my dreams.

I can still feel her lips on mine, in that daring moment when she kissed me all on her own and almost made me tear her clothes off in Asher's laundry room while he was probably twenty feet away eating her birthday cake.

I feel sick.

I feel tortured.

I feel unhinged with want for her.

I feel a deep ache in my heart that only she can soothe.

I feel like I'm stabbing a dagger straight through my best friend’s back.

The scales are tipping, though, and it's scaring the shit out of me.

I pull my phone out of my back pocket and type out a quick text, my stomach immediately knotting up.

M
e
: I'm taking tomorrow off and going for a ride.

Kenzi: Um ok? Thanks for the update? Shall I expect further notice?

I
laugh at the screen
, loving her little snarky attitude.

Me: Be outside at 8am. Jeans, boots, and your helmet.

Kenzi: I'm going too?! :-)

Me: If you want to...

Kenzi: Of course I do!

Me: Good.

Kenzi: Woot! I haven't been on your bike in years!

Me: Because that seat on my bike has been reserved.

Kenzi: For who?

Me: The woman of my dreams ;)

Kenzi: Eep

Me: Wtf is that?

Kenzi: It’s like wow.

Me: Speak English. I'm old, remember?

Kenzi: You are not. You're so cute.

Me: Please don't call me cute.

Kenzi: But you so are!

Me: I'll see you in the morning, Angel.

Kenzi: I can't wait! <3

N
o one's
ever sent me a heart in a text message before. I touch it lightly with my finger, the knot in my stomach fraying and unraveling with threads of hope. Her love and excitement is contagious, and I honestly don't want a cure. I want to die of this sickness, if I can. Nothing and no one has ever made me feel as happy and content as she does. Not even playing or riding has been able to reach far enough into me to pull me out of the bitter state of mind that I've been dwelling in for years.

But she has. Without even trying.

And the moment I try to relax into this new feeling of contentment, the ugly monster of the situation rears its head again, sinks its claws into my heart, trying to tear it away from her, laughing at me for being naive enough to think spending a day with her would be okay.

* * *

S
he comes
out of the house when she hears my bike pull into the driveway looking all sorts of cute and sexy in jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt with a big yellow smiley face on the front, her hair in a long braid with a little skull clip at the end. And those damn black leather boots that for some crazy reason always seem to turn me on. I'm starting to think maybe I have a foot or shoe fetish I never realized before. I quickly shove the thought to the back of my mind to be dealt with later. I want today to just be a day for us to spend time together alone, to see how it feels to just spend a day with her with no labels on us. I don't want to think about our past or the future or Ash or anything else except just us.

She approaches me with a big smile and kisses my cheek.

"You're on time. I'm impressed." She says, pulling her helmet over her head. I don't wear a helmet but there's no way I'm letting her go without one.

"Hop on." I nod to the small seat behind me and she grabs onto my shoulder as she climbs on and sets her feet on the pegs.

"A few rules," I say, turning towards her. "I don't want you falling off so keep your hands on me."

"That won't be a problem." She replies with a playful tone, wrapping her arms around my waist.

I stifle a laugh. "Behave yourself. Being on the bike is serious. This isn't a big two wheeled vibrator. Pay attention and move your body with mine, okay?"

Her arms tighten around my waist. "Seriously Tor, you just said vibrator and told me to move my body with yours while I've got my legs and arms wrapped all up around your amazing bod. I'll do my best to behave given all those circumstances."

I lean back against her and lay my hand on hers clasped over my stomach. Having her so close, with her perfume enveloping me and feeling the warmth of her thighs pressed against my legs, is making my blood rush through my veins like liquid fire. I thought a ride in the mountains would be safe territory but now it’s turned into a subtle act of foreplay.

Am I complaining? Hell, no.

"Well, when you put it like that, Angel, enjoy the ride." I tease back, starting up the bike before she can throw more fuel onto the flames. I'm not used to riding with a woman or feeling anything but the rush of air in my face. It figures she would be the first to turn this all around for me.

And again, I'm not complaining one bit.

I
've ridden
these roads for almost my entire life. First, on the back of my old man's bike when I was a little kid, and then on my own when I was old enough to ride alone. Today I take it slower than I normally do, and Kenzi keeps her arms around me, loosening up her embrace just a little as she starts to feel more comfortable. I'm not sure when the last time she was on the back of Asher's bike, but I'm guessing it’s probably been over two years.

W
hen we get further
up the mountains, I pull over onto a small area for parking and kill the engine, motioning for her to hop off before I put the kickstand down. She gives me a squeeze before she gets off and takes her helmet off while I take a bottle of water out of my saddle bag.

"You having fun?" I ask her, taking the helmet from her hand and resting it on the back of my bike.