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To the Stars (Thatch #2), Page 2

Molly McAdams


  My face fell. “I don’t need you to be my keeper; I’m just getting some air.”

  He bent down so that his dark eyes were directly in front of mine, the intensity in them pinning me to the wall. “And I never said I didn’t want to be the one to come out here with you.”

  My pulse thrummed quickly at his admission, and my body warmed under his stare. I felt myself inching toward him, and my breaths deepened from his nearness. My eyes bounced over his face and body, taking him in more clearly now that we were outside in the glow from the setting sun. The fitted gray Henley shirt that stopped just below where his low-slung jeans began showed a lean, muscular build to his tall frame. His flawless, tan skin drew me toward his dark eyes, which I somehow knew would tell me everything, without him ever saying a word.

  My eyes fell to his lips, and I caught myself wanting to know how they would feel against my skin. Let them come to you. Hayley’s words ghosted through my mind, and I cleared my throat and looked away before I could do something stupid, like ask if I could feel his lips on mine.

  I needed to find a flaw, and I needed to focus on it so I wouldn’t start thinking this guy had been created by the gods for no purpose other than to make girls like me drool and forget how to have normal conversations. Ridiculous hormones—1, Harlow—0.

  “So, uh, you’re obviously not from around here.”

  “Obviously?” he asked, humor lacing through the word.

  Well, you’re gorgeous and I’ve never seen you. So, yes, obviously. I held back an eye roll and internally groaned at how I was already messing this up. “Um, I just meant I’ve never seen you before, but then again, everyone else seemed to know you, so I could be wrong.”

  “Knox Alexander,” he said, and stretched out his hand for me to take. “And you weren’t wrong. I’m actually from Thatch, so a few hours from here.”

  “And somehow you’re already friends with everyone even though I’m just meeting you?”

  He nodded in the direction of the building. “Sara is my sister. She’s been here in Seattle for about a year now, and knows some of them from school. I’ve hung out with everyone a few times this summer. Now tell me why I haven’t met you before tonight . . . and why I still don’t have your name.”

  I bit back a smile. “My name is Harlow. I’m Hayley’s sister.”

  His brow pinched together. “Twins?” he asked, and I laughed at his honest question. It was one we got asked a lot.

  “Uh, no. Not even close, but I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyway, I’ve been grounded since school let out a month ago, but that finally let up.”

  Knox’s face fell, and I could tell he was replaying my words in his head. “Wait, how old are you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  He just stared at me, not saying anything while a conflicted look crossed his face.

  “Why?” I asked, drawing the word out. “How old did you think I was?”

  There was a pause before he mumbled, “Not fifteen.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’ll be eighteen in a little over a week.”

  I didn’t understand the problem with that. Everyone I hung out with was at least eighteen, but from the look on Knox’s face, it was definitely a problem. “And?”

  He forced a smile and cleared his throat. “And nothing. I guess I just hadn’t expected that.”

  I didn’t miss the way his eyes wouldn’t meet mine after that, or how he moved his body away.

  Wait, what just happened? Why did those intense eyes shut down, and why is there a coldness settling between us? This is what I get for listening to Hayley!

  My shoulders sagged in defeat and I pushed away from the wall to head in the direction of a lower wall that ran along the lawn.

  “Aren’t you going back in?” Knox asked as he followed.

  “No, but you’re more than welcome to. I’ll call my mom to come get me.”

  “Why are you leaving?” he asked, and his hand gently grasped my forearm to stop me from walking.

  I looked down at where his long fingers wrapped around my arm, the heat beneath his hand something so much more than his body temperature. My breaths became audible when I looked behind my shoulder to see him looking down at our arms.

  When his eyes met mine again, the intensity was back. “Why are you leaving?” he asked again; the huskiness of his deep voice made me sway toward him—he didn’t let me get close.

  “Um, concerts aren’t my thing apparently,” I muttered as I pulled my arm from his grasp. “I’d never been to one before, and now I see I wasn’t missing out on anything.”

  “Then I’ll stay out here with you.”

  “I told you I don’t need a keeper,” I gritted out.

  “Trust me, Harlow, that’s the last thing I want to be.”

  My eyes widened at the suggestive tone, and I fumbled for something to say that wouldn’t have him shutting down on me again. Nothing came to mind. “Really, don’t stay out here for me. I’ll call someone.”

  “I didn’t come here for the shows. I came to give Sara a ride back to her place later.” His eyes held that same conflict from earlier as he stared at me for long moments. “Besides, if I had to choose between being in there, or out here with you, I would choose you.”

  “Because I need a protector.” It hadn’t been a question. I was frustrated that he felt like he had to baby me.

  His head shook subtly and eyes darted away, and his voice dropped even lower. “I wish that were my reason.”

  Present Day—Richland

  I KEPT THE smile on my face and pushed at my salad as I listened to Hadley rant about this guy she had been dating off and on. After shopping for a couple of hours and getting our nails done, we’d come to one of our favorite restaurants in Richland to talk in the remaining time I had left before I had to go home and make dinner.

  Hadley was going to school at Washington State University Tri-Cities so she could be closer to me. I loved these times with her; they were something I craved on the days when I felt like I was drowning. But at the same time, they were a struggle to get through. Our sister, Hayley, had been too focused on her young kids the few times I’d seen her since Collin and I married—something that was a saving grace for me since she had always been the perceptive one. But now she lived in Connecticut with her husband, and we saw her once a year; twice, if we were lucky.

  Hadley was different. Hadley didn’t notice anything other than the perfect world around her. She saw life through rose-colored glasses, always had. So all I needed to do was keep a smile on my face when I was near her, and she’d never know anything was wrong. It wasn’t hard keeping the smile. I was good at faking happiness for the sake of my family. The problem was that I could never offer anything about my life, and when I did, it was lies. It was exhausting. My body always stayed tense throughout our times together; I was afraid that somehow she would notice something was off—see something she wasn’t meant to.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked suddenly.

  Like that.

  “I am eating,” I said with a soft laugh, putting a forkful in my mouth to emphasize my statement.

  She stole a bite of my salad, and waved her fork around as she chewed. “So, anyway, I just don’t know what to do about him.”

  “Well, it’s summer; it’s the perfect time for you two to take a break since he’s back home for a few months. Maybe date some other people. You’re only nineteen, Hadley; don’t just focus on this one guy. You have three more years of college; enjoy them, and enjoy all the different guys.”

  She looked at me skeptically. “You got married when you were nineteen.”

  “I turned twenty a month later.”

  “Like that makes a difference?” She smiled, because she knew she was right. “You can’t preach to me about settling down young when you did it yourself.” She sighed and pursed her lips. “I want to find a Collin.”

  My body tightened, and the smile froze on my face.

&n
bsp; “I want to find someone who will take care of me the way he takes care of you. Admit it, sis, your life is pretty perfect. You don’t have to work, your husband pays for us to have days like this; he’s hot, he’s rich . . . he’s hot.”

  He’s a monster.

  “You know what I want for you?” I asked quickly as I leaned forward, my question coming across a little too urgent. “To find someone who will love you through anything. Years. Distance. Separation. Anything. That’s what I want for you.”

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mom.”

  I cleared my throat and attempted a smile, grateful that she hadn’t noticed my tone. “Speaking of Mom . . . are you going home this summer?”

  I sat back and resumed pushing my salad around when she launched into what her plans were for the summer. When I dropped her off an hour later at the apartment she was renting with some friends, I cried in relief as the tension drained from my muscles.

  I hurried to get dinner ready when I got home, then walked through the house one more time, looking for anything I might have missed. I’d cleaned the bathroom from both our showers, the rest of the house still looked spotless, the new purse and shoes I’d bought this afternoon were sitting on display on the entryway table for Collin to see when he got home, and I’d just finished putting all the dishes away before I’d began my walk-through. My hands were shaking as I stared at the plates on the table. Something was missing. I just couldn’t think of what it was.

  Chicken, potatoes, green beans. Forks, knives, spoons, napkins. Salt. Pepper. I glanced at the time and swallowed thickly. Oh God, oh God! What the hell is missing?

  I had two minutes before Collin drove up the driveway; he was never a minute late. I wasn’t sure, but I’d started thinking he parked down the street waiting until the same time every day just so he could instill this fear in me for when he would show.

  Drinks!

  I rushed through the kitchen and pulled down four glasses. After filling two with ice and water and the others with wine, I set all the glasses on the table seconds before I heard the key in the lock, and my trembling increased.

  The door opened and shut, and after a few seconds, Collin’s footsteps echoed off the hardwood floors as he walked through the entryway and into the kitchen to look at me. There was a beautiful bouquet of pink roses in his hand—as there was every night he felt he needed to apologize—and I tried to keep my face neutral at the sight of them. I’d always hated roses, something Collin knew.

  “Smells great.” He smiled quickly, tossed the roses unceremoniously on the kitchen table, and then turned around to walk through the house. His eyes were going everywhere as he looked for something out of place. Anything. Two minutes later he walked back into the kitchen with a genuine smile on his face. He wrapped his arms around me where I was standing at the counter, clipping the end of each rose and placing it in a vase. “Do you like your gifts?”

  “I do, thank you.”

  “And seeing your sister?” he asked as he turned me to face him. He captured my mouth to kiss me softly, his lips only moving far enough away to ask, “Did you two have a good time?”

  “Yes,” I whispered before he was kissing me again.

  One arm moved slowly up my back as he deepened the kiss, and I tried to not let on to the fact that my stomach was churning from his touch.

  A cry burst from my chest as pain spread across my scalp and down my neck when he fisted his hand in my long hair and yanked roughly to the side. With another hard tug, he turned—causing me to hit the counter and knock the vase onto the floor, where it shattered—and stalked into the entryway with me stumbling behind him, bent in half. Facing the entry table covered in the things I’d bought earlier, he pulled me up only to force my face down toward the table so fast that a scream tore through my throat. Everything halted when my nose was within an inch of the table, and my jaw shook as tears fell onto the dark-stained wood.

  “Are you trying to get someone killed?” he roared.

  “N-n-n-n,” I stammered, then cut off on a sob.

  “What is missing, Harlow? Tell me!” He jerked my head a fraction of an inch closer to the table.

  I stared at the table, shaking, unable to figure out what he was talking about.

  “Who do you want gone, huh?” he asked close to my ear. This time his voice was soft and dark. “Your sister? You want her gone, don’t you?”

  “No!” I choked out.

  “Then where is it?” he yelled next to me.

  Card. Credit card! “Wall—wallet! I’m s-s-sorry!”

  Using a fistful of my hair as a handle, he threw me to the ground and stepped over me on his way to look for my purse. My hands immediately flew to my head to cover the tender parts as I listened to his footfalls fading away from me.

  “Don’t show your pain.” The words trailed behind him. Another reminder. Another warning.

  On shaky hands and legs, I rolled onto my knees and slowly stood. By the time I was upright again, he was walking back toward me with my purse in his hand. Pulling his keys out of his pants pocket, he walked out the front door only to come back a minute later.

  “I’ll give it all back in two days,” he crooned, and kissed my cheek with deceptive softness. “Come on, let’s eat. Dinner looks amazing.”

  Placing his hand on the small of my back, he walked us toward the kitchen. He pulled my chair out for me, and held my hand on top of the table as we ate. He ate—I sat there staring at the shards of glass and forgotten roses on the tile, wondering again how the boy I’d fallen in love with had turned into my monster.

  Chapter 2

  Harlow

  Summer 2008—Seattle

  I WAS ABOUT to see Knox for the first time since meeting him a week and a half ago, and I could barely sit still, I was so excited. We had ended up staying outside for the rest of the concert, sitting on the wall and talking about everything: Thatch, his move to Seattle, and his plans to go to the University of Washington here in the fall. I’d told him about my family and life as a high school student who didn’t fit in—the story of most students’ lives.

  The more the night of the concert wore on, the more I’d felt myself slipping into a place where Knox was all that mattered, and I wanted to be that for him as well. When the shows were all over, I could’ve sworn he would kiss me good night.

  But there’d been no kiss, and no words. His body had been pressed close to mine, and one of his large hands had come up to cradle my cheek. For minutes we stood there as I silently begged him to kiss me. As if a switch had been thrown, that conflict from earlier had come back into his eyes and he’d taken a step away from me.

  The connection was broken, and I was sure I would never hear from him again even though I’d given him my number. But the next day he called, and the next, and it was just like being back up on that wall. Even over the phone I could feel the intensity that drew me to him, and that husky tone had me wanting to listen to him talk forever.

  Yesterday was Knox’s birthday, and tonight we were all hanging out at Neil’s house to celebrate. And Hayley’s car wasn’t moving fast enough! I could have run faster. Okay, that was a lie, but couldn’t she drive just a little faster?

  I nearly sighed in relief when we pulled up to the house. Not waiting for Hayley, I threw open my door and took off for the guy standing on the other end of the lawn with a couple of guys I’d never seen before.

  As soon as Knox saw me running toward them, a bright smile covered his gorgeous face, and he stepped away from the guys with his arms open just in time for me to launch myself at him. I’d planned to try to look cool walking up toward him—but there’d been no time for that once I’d seen him.

  A soft grunt sounded before he laughed and tightened his arms around me. “Hey, Low.”

  I could hear the guys talking who had been standing with Knox. They were trying to figure out if I was “the girl,” and something about that made my smile widen.

  “Happy birthday,” I mumb
led against Knox’s chest.

  Pressing two fingers under my chin, he tilted my head back so his dark eyes could meet mine. “Thank you.” He studied my face for a while before asking, “Is it weird that I’ve missed you?”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You missed me?”

  He gave me a look, like I should have known. “Yeah, Low.”

  “Good,” I teased.

  Knox laughed softly, and when I blinked against the drops that began falling from the sky, he quickly wrapped his arm around me and walked us toward the house without another look at his friends. And like we had every day on the phone, we picked right back up on our conversation from the day before. Only this time he was here again, in front of me. And this time my hand was in his, and every now and then he would cup my cheek and just stare at me—like my eyes held answers he was looking for.

  “We’ve got some jailbait in here!” someone said loudly almost an hour later.

  I wouldn’t have paid them any attention if Knox’s face hadn’t suddenly hardened as he looked over to the guys he’d been with at the beginning of the night, and then over to whoever had yelled.

  “Hope you look good in orange, Knox!”

  This time my head whipped around. What are they talking about?

  Out of the two dozen people all smashed together in the basement of Neil’s house, almost everyone was cracking up as people started throwing around the word jailbait like it was a catcall or something.

  Knox’s hand tightened around mine, and I watched his face pale.

  “What are they talking about?” I asked so only he could hear me. When he didn’t answer, I looked around for Hayley and Neil—two of the other people not laughing besides us. She looked sad; he looked livid—I just wasn’t sure who his anger was directed at.

  “No pussy can be worth jail time, bro. Don’t do it!”

  That got everyone laughing so loud, the sudden roar made me jump, and Knox growled. His friends from outside were whispering urgently to him, but Knox didn’t seem to be listening to them.