by Anna Paige
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
For Trenda.
I’m so grateful I found you at the start of this journey.
I couldn’t do it without you, T.
You’re amazing.
Contents
1. Blair
2. Blair
3. Blair
4. Ashton
5. Blair
6. Ashton
7. Ashton
8. Blair
9. Blair
10. Blair
11. Blair
12. Ashton
13. Ashton
14. Blair
15. Ashton
16. Blair
17. Blair
18. Ashton
19. Blair
20. Ashton
21. Blair
22. Ashton
23. Blair
24. Ashton
25. Ashton
26. Blair
27. Blair
28. Ashton
29. Blair
30. Ashton
31. Blair
32. Blair
33. Blair
34. Blair
35. Ashton
36. Blair
37. Ashton
38. Ashton
39. Blair
40. Ashton
41. Blair
42. Ashton
43. Ashton
44. Blair
45. Ashton
46. Ashton
47. Blair
48. Blair
49. Ashton
50. Blair
51. Blair
52. Ashton
53. Blair
54. Ashton
55. Blair
56. Ashton
57. Blair
58. Ashton
59. Blair
60. Ashton
61. Blair
62. Blair
63. Ashton
64. Blair
65. Ashton
Epilogue
Chasing Kade sneak peek
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Also by Anna Paige
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Blair
As soon as this godforsaken night was over, I intended to strangle my best friend and toss her corpse in the nearest ditch.
Trust me, she said.
He’s gorgeous, she said.
Smart, funny, and a total catch.
Dark hair and eyes, very brooding . . . sexy.
Bull. Shit.
How did I let her talk me into these things?
Weeks . . . she’d been talking this guy up for weeks. And I let her wear me down. Stupid. God, I was so stupid.
She had me expecting some charming, ambitious, hottie with an astronomical IQ.
What showed up—honking from the damn parking lot instead of bothering to come to my door?
A reject from some Wayne’s World remake.
A beer-swilling, air-guitar playing, greasy, grungy, gassy, obnoxious bag of no-fucking-way.
That’s what she considers my dream guy to be?
I shoved a crumpled beer can aside with my foot as I sat there beside him in the front seat of his junker. She—the alleged best friend, soon to be known as “the victim” in some homicide cop’s paperwork—was silent as a graveyard in the back seat, no doubt sensing my mood from my rigid posture and clenched jaw. The smell of stale beer and cigarettes was cloying, and my stomach lurched in protest.
Maybe I should leave her barely alive when I toss her in the ditch, so she can have the pleasure of feeling the buzzards pecking out her eyes.
She’ll be nothing but a pile of bones and a tuft of curly auburn hair in no time.
I had plenty of time to plot as we made our way to the beach, where my brother and his college buddies were having a party.
Charli—my soon-to-be-late best friend—had been half in love with my older brother since she and I were seven and he was eleven.
Half the town had been right there with her. His combination of jet-black hair and icy blue eyes put him on every radar in the county—guys and girls alike tripped over themselves to be near him. It was insane.
And disheartening given that I had the same black-haired and blue-eyed combo, yet no one was beating down my door. Of course, my brother had a lot to do with that, too. He was incredibly protective, and since he was popular as hell, people listened to him when he laid down the law.
The idea of him interfering in my social life probably would have pissed me off if I was capable of being mad at him. But I wasn’t. He was just that great of a person.
As my shithead best friend would gladly attest. She was practically the president of the Becker Martell fan club all through school.
Even now, anytime he was in town, she made it her business to be wherever he was.
It annoyed the hell out of me after a while, because wherever my brother Becker was, his best friend Ashton was right by his side. It had been that way all our lives. And whenever Ash and I crossed paths, things got ugly.
My hand to God—if he patted my head like I was some little kid one more time, I was dumping his body in the ditch beside Charli’s.
I was twenty-one years old, dammit. But that jerk talked to me like I was a toddler, and I was sick of it. When he and my brother went away to college upstate, I’d had a long break from the frustration that came along with his presence, and they’d stayed upstate afterward for graduate school.
Two days ago, they’d come back home. I wasn’t sure yet how long they planned to stay, but I refused to let Ashton’s bullshit deter me from seeing Beck.
I loved my brother fiercely. He was always so great to me growing up, and I knew how lucky I was to have that kind of bond with him. It wasn’t like that in a lot of families. Charli’s brother was only two years older, but he tormented her to the point she declined a scholarship to the same college he attended just because she refused to be near him. Instead, she stayed close to home like me, and we attended classes together.
Sophomore year, we even got an apartment together near campus.
It was a great apartment, lots of room and light.
And it would feel even roomier soon, since I’d be living there alone after I killed her lying ass.
“So, Blair, Tommy here got his picture on the wall at Flannigan’s. He’s kind of a celebrity there.” It was the first thing she’d said the entire ride.
I turned to glare at her, wishing it wasn’t so dark so she could get the f
ull effect of my death stare. “Swoon,” I deadpanned. Flannigan’s was a popular bar near campus that the guys flocked to because of the half dozen massive televisions and cheap, watered-down beer.
“Fifty-two wings in ten minutes,” Wayne’s World . . . I mean Tommy announced proudly. “Technically, I barfed most of them up afterward, but it still counted since no one saw.” I cut my eyes in his direction as he leaned toward the passenger seat and confided, “Ruined the giant ficus by the bathrooms, though.”
I was two seconds from demanding to be let off at the next intersection when my phone rang. I slid it from my back pocket and groaned at the name on the screen.
What is it, asshole night?
I reluctantly accepted the call and offered a clipped, “What?” in place of a greeting.
“Damn, kiddo. Rough night already?” Ashton chuckled, knowing full well I always answered his calls this way.
“None of your business. Now, what do you want, jackass?”
“Testy, testy, little one,” he mocked. “Beck told me to call you. My mom’s car is on the fritz again, so I loaned her my truck for the night, which means I need a ride to the beach.”
“And you’re calling me because you’ve never heard of Uber? Or Lyft? A taxi perhaps? Maybe even an ambitious stork with really stellar beak strength?”
Charli snickered from the back seat.
“Your brother assured me you’d be happy to swing by and pick me up since you know how important it is to him that his best friend be there.”
“Then let him come get you.”
“Can’t. He’s already at the beach setting up, tapping the keg, and getting the bonfire going. There are a dozen people there already, so he’s gotta stay and play host. He said he’d consider it a personal favor.”
I pulled in a breath and gritted my teeth. “You both owe me big time.”
“Will gas money and my undying gratitude cover it?”
“Gas money would be helpful, assuming my date doesn’t mind stopping by to get you.” I eyed Tommy, hating that I’d have to ask him a favor, even if it was only a couple of miles out of the way. He looked like the type of guy who would expect repayment beyond just a few bucks for gas.
Tommy didn’t look away from the road, just held up a hand with the “hang loose” signal, indicating he was okay with it.
“Date? Well, isn’t that precious. Our little sister is growing up so fast.”
“I am not your little sister, dickbag. And if you don’t stop treating me like a kid, you’ll be walking to the beach.”
“Fine, fine. Just bring your ass. I want to get there before all the hot chicks are taken.”
“Just remember, the later you wait, the drunker they are and the lower their standards. Of course, they only get so low, so you may be shit out of luck.”
“Language, little one,” he chided, tsking in my ear.
“Walk to the beach, stupid one,” I countered.
“Shit, sorry. Force of habit. I’ll be good, I promise.” His tone was less than sincere, not that I’d expected him to lay off anyway.
“Sure, you will. We’re on the way. Be ready in ten minutes.”
“I was born ready, sweetheart.” He hung up.
I leaned my head back and let out a long growl of frustration, tossing my phone into the floorboard amid the beer cans before I could stop myself.
“Well, this just got interesting,” Charli commented from the back.
I fished my phone up, checked it for beer residue, and opened my notes app, starting a new note.
“What’re you doing?” she asked.
“Creating a hit list, now shut your whore mouth. I’m still mad at you.” I glanced back at her with narrowed eyes.
“Me?” She feigned innocence; hazel eyes wide as she pressed her hand to her chest in disbelief.
“Top of the list, Charli. Top of the list. Even before Ashton, which should tell you all you need to know.” I gave a pointed look in Tommy’s direction.
She mouthed “what?” and seemed genuinely confused as to why I was unhappy with her choice.
I faced forward again and ignored her. She’d know exactly what she did wrong.
But just in case, I planned to spell it all out as I was choking the life out of her.
Blair
We pulled into Ash’s driveway exactly ten minutes later, and before I could get the satisfaction of honking the horn, he was out the door and headed down the driveway.
Dammit.
And even worse, he looked really good in his dark jeans and fitted burgundy T-shirt. The blond Adonis—as the girls in school had nicknamed him—was definitely living up to the name. It was a shame Tommy didn’t have Ash’s style and grooming habits. There was a hoodie draped over his arm and an ever-widening smirk on his face as he peered at my date through the windshield.
His green eyes were sparkling with mischief.
Dammit.
He was going to have entirely too much fun with this, I could tell already.
A moment later, he opened the rear passenger door and slid into the seat behind me. “Hey, guys.” His hand snaked between the front seats and he waited for Tommy to take it. “Appreciate the lift, man. Ashton Hunter,” he introduced himself. “And you are?”
“Tommy Davies,” my date from hell announced, shaking Ash’s hand quickly but not so quickly that I missed the enormous pit stain under his raised arm. Ash must have spotted it too because he did that cough/laugh thing he was famous for.
Tommy backed out of the driveway and a moment later, we were on the long, dark stretch of road between the town and the beach.
Ashton’s face appeared in the gap between the two front seats, a smirk firmly in place as he watched me while he asked Tommy, “So, how’d you two crazy kids meet?”
“Charli set us up,” Tommy volunteered cheerfully. “I work at the coffee shop across from campus and she likes her lattes.”
I frowned and looked over at him. “Really? I thought you had classes together too. She said you were a business major or something.” What she’d said was he was going for a bachelor’s in business administration like the two of us. I remembered because it was the “see you have so much in common” spiel she’d hit me with over and over when talking him up.
He made an unpleasant scoffing noise. “Nah. I was, but I gave up going to class last year. Interfered with my social life.”
I tried to give her another death stare, but Ash was in the way. He saw my expression and couldn’t stifle his grin.
Asshole.
“So, can you make those fancy patterns in the drinks? I see pics all the time of swans and hearts made out of foam.” Ash just had to keep pushing, didn’t he?
“Nah. I bus the tables. Those machines are too damn complicated for me.” He thought for a second and grinned. “I know a chick who can pour those patterns, though. When things are slow, she makes X-rated ones. Dicks and stuff.”
“Sweet.” Ash grinned again and wedged his foot under my seat, kicking the spot just under my tailbone. “How cool is that, Blair-bear?”
He kicked my seat again.
“Sit back, Ash. Your cologne is making my sinuses burn,” I quipped, though he actually smelled unnervingly good.
I’d never tell him that.
Never.
With one last grin, he did as I asked, but he wasn’t one to give up that easily. That damn boot of his was still wedged under my seat and he kept kicking every few seconds, driving me crazy.
Charli tried to get him engaged in conversation, but he brushed her off.
Finally, the beach was just a mile or so away and I was ready to jump from the damn car before it even stopped moving. Then he did it again, at least half a dozen kicks in rapid succession and I decided I’d had enough.
He wanted me to fuss, to tell him to stop, to let him know how much he was pissing me off.
What I did instead was moan long and loud, grinding into my seat as I breathlessly said, “Oh, Ash, don’t stop!
Just a few more kicks. I’m right there, baby.”
Charli burst out laughing, Tommy turned to stare at me with eyes as wide as saucers, and Ash jerked his foot out from under the seat so fast I was pretty sure he snatched his boot off in the process.
Apart from Charli’s cackles of laughter, the last few seconds of the ride were silent and uneventful. A clearly embarrassed Ash disappeared as if by magic as soon as Tommy put the car in park.
I guess that was one way to shut his arrogant ass down.
“Oh. My. God. Blair! I’ve never seen that look on Ashton’s face before. He was stupefied, completely blindsided. Shit, he couldn’t even come up with a witty retort.” She giggled again and reached for the door handle. “That was brilliant, girl. Pure genius.”
“Bet he won’t kick my seat like that anymore.”
We got out of the car and headed toward the sand. Halfway there, Charli handed me a wad of fabric. “Smartass was in such a hurry he forgot his hoodie.”
“Why you giving it to me?” I took it hesitantly, noting the name of Ash and Beck’s college emblazoned on the front.
“So you can gloat a little when you return it.”
I waved her off, trying to give it back to her. “I’d prefer avoidance.”
