When We Were Reckless: An Age Gap Best Friend's Sister Romance Read online

  Next to me, Aubrey stifled a laugh. Aubrey was the front-of-house manager and worked for my brothers since they opened the brewery last year. The gorgeous curvy redhead knew I hadn’t been paying attention to whatever Declan was saying. She, on the other hand, hung on his every word.

  Declan was the only one who couldn’t see that Aubrey was madly in love with him. Wasn’t that always the way?

  “Of course, Declan. I listen to everything you say.” I batted my lashes and gave him a sweet smile that didn’t fool him for a minute.

  He exhaled loudly and crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. I guess I could kind of see why women called him hot. But no way would I want a hot-tempered guy like Declan, no matter how ‘hot’ he might be.

  “What are today’s specials?”

  I peered into the kitchen through the shelves of the pass, searching for a clue. The stainless steel gleamed, and the white subway tiles sparkled. Pans sat on the gas burners, but I couldn’t tell what was in them. A few wood crates were on the counter, but I couldn’t identify anything inside them. Declan was a forager, so God only knew what he’d dug up today.

  The sous chef, Casey, was slicing meat into paper-thin slices. Bingo. “Carpaccio…” I squinted at the slab of meat. “Wait, no. Is that prosciutto?”

  Declan threw up his hands. “I don’t have time for this shit,” he growled. “Aubrey. Fill her in.” I rolled my eyes as he stalked back into the kitchen to lord over his little empire.

  Declan was a perfectionist and a culinary genius. Out of my three brothers, he was the most volatile and the one I argued with the most. Pretty sure Declan thought he was Gordon Ramsay. This summer was already shaping up to be a kitchen nightmare.

  After Aubrey filled me in on the specials, Mason called my name. I spun around to face him as he came to stand in front of me. “Has Ridge McCallister ever given you any shit?”

  Ridge? “No. I’ve never even talked to him. Why?”

  “He’s coming in for an interview. Just wanted to make sure you’re cool with it.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Mason shrugged. “Just checking. If he’s ever caused you any trouble—”

  “He hasn’t,” I said quickly. “I’m cool with it.”

  “He’ll be helping Holden in the brewery.” Holden had a degree in Biology and was the head brewer. He loved nothing more than to experiment with hops and fermentation processes.

  I was the odd man out, the only one in my family who wasn’t a massive foodie or a beer lover. Not that I’d ever tried more than a few sips of beer.

  “Great. Sounds good.” Mason looked like he was waiting for me to say more or fill him in on Ridge’s character. But since I didn’t know Ridge, I had nothing to add.

  I highly doubted that it would work in Ridge’s favor if I shared what I did know about him. Man whore. The life of every party. He was the guy who always knew how to score the alcohol and drugs. Or so I was told. Not that he did drugs. But rumor had it that he was a supplier.

  He’d shocked everyone when he’d not only made it on the football team but had been one of the best wide receivers in the history of Cypress Springs High.

  The cheerleaders used to fight over who got to do his homework. That was his superpower. He didn’t even have to lift a finger. All he had to do was swagger down the hallway, and girls were falling all over him.

  “I’m sure he’ll be good at….” I waved my hand in the air. “Carrying oak barrels and stuff.”

  Mason gave me a funny look.

  “He’s big. And he looks strong. I mean, he’s a baller, so…” I shrugged.

  “Yeah, okay.” He was still giving me a weird look, but I ignored it.

  I couldn’t think about Ridge. All I could think about was Jesse. Was he devastated? Heartbroken? Why had he retired from the sport he loved?

  So many questions. And there was only one person who could answer them.

  Chapter Three

  Quinn

  Jesse lived in a treehouse. He bought it a few years ago. A retreat from his busy life on the road. But he’d never really lived in this house, except for a couple of months during the off-season. He’d lent it out to friends, though.

  For a while, Mason had lived here. I’d heard that Jesse was thinking of selling it so he could buy a house in California. But now I didn’t know what he was planning to do with it.

  The house was romantic, though. Timber-framed with a wraparound deck overlooking the woods in the back and the river from the front. He had land too—acres and acres of trails for off-road riding.

  The last time I was here, it was Christmas Eve. Which also happened to be my eighteenth birthday. Right after Christmas, he left Texas, and I hadn’t been face-to-face with him since.

  On Christmas Eve, something had happened, though. For me, it had been magical, but to him, it obviously meant nothing. So I didn’t know why I was here tonight. Eleven o’clock was too late for a social call.

  I peered at his house through the windshield. The lights were on. My heart raced, nerves and excitement making it beat triple time. He was home. He was still awake. He hadn’t invited me, but I wanted to be here for him if he needed me. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. Because how could he be?

  Taking a deep breath, I got out of my car, and I climbed the wood staircase. Up and up and up.

  Pine from the Cypress trees scented the air, the night air balmy as I bravely, foolishly followed my stupid heart up the stairs and across the cedar deck. My heart was in my throat, my pulse pounding in my ears. I felt like I was going to throw up.

  Just breathe, Quinn.

  It had been five months since I’d seen him up close. Five months since I’d breathed in the scent on his skin that had made me dizzy with wanting and longing.

  Sucking in a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, I lifted my hand, and I knocked on the wood door.

  Oh God, this was a terrible idea. I should turn around and leave. Get back in my car and drive home. But my feet were rooted to the spot, and I couldn’t move. So I just stood outside his door with my shaky hands clasped in front of me.

  Moments later, the door opened, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  He squinted as if he was trying to place the face and bring me into focus. He was shirtless and barefoot, sporting only a pair of black athletic shorts.

  Jesse had the most beautiful body. He really did. Lean and sculpted, without an ounce of fat. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. I stared at the dips and valleys of his chiseled abs, so well-defined that I could count all six of them. I clasped my hands more tightly and fought the urge to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, the tautness of his muscles under the palm of my hand.

  After what felt like forever, I dragged my gaze up to his face. To his summer sky blue eyes and full, sensuous lips. Lips I’d tasted once. They were softer than I’d expected but firm too. Now his face was neutral, devoid of expression.

  Jesse roughed his hand through his hair. His messy, disheveled light brown hair that was shorter than it had been at Christmas.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked brusquely.

  Not exactly the welcome I’d been hoping for, but I was here now, so I had to say something. “I… I couldn’t sleep. So I thought I’d take a drive, and I ended up here.” Lame, Quinn. Super lame. “Can I come in?”

  He studied my face for a moment. Then he swung the door open wider and strode across the hardwood floor on his bare feet. I closed the door behind me and moved farther into the room.

  He disappeared somewhere, but he’d opened the door for me. He hadn’t asked me to leave, so he must have wanted me here, right?

  I walked over to the horseshoe-shaped sofa, butter-soft, caramel-colored leather, and stood behind it, unsure what to do next. The flatscreen TV above the stone fireplace was on, an action movie playing. Empty beer bottles sat on the rustic oak coffee table—a whole row of bottles. I stared at the beer bottles. At the bottle of tequila. Half-empty
. There was a pizza box sitting on the coffee table too. If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t even question it.

  Pizza, beer, and a movie. No big deal.

  But this was Jesse, who had always claimed that his body was his temple. He was a vegetarian. He ate healthy, never touched junk food, and he didn’t drink. I mean, I was sure he drank a beer or two sometimes, but this was something different.

  My gaze moved around the open-space living area. An oval dining table with six upholstered chairs sat in front of the tall glass windows, affording a view of the river. Framed black and white photos of Alessia Rossi used to hang on the walls. He’d been in some of them too--photos of him doing a double backflip at the Summer X Games a couple of years ago when he won the gold and a few pictures of him racing at the Pala National.

  But those photos were gone now.

  Ceiling fans hung from the double-height ceiling, an American flag on one of the timber walls. Jesse’s older brother Jude had brought that flag home from Afghanistan, and it was one of Jesse’s most prized possessions.

  I turned as Jesse came back into the room, wearing a fitted maroon Rogue T-shirt, the soft cotton molded to the contours of his body.

  He was drunk. I hadn’t seen it before, but now I could tell that he was unsteady on his feet.

  “Did you… um, have some friends over?” I asked when he plopped down on the sofa and lifted a beer to his perfect lips. I watched him take a pull, his throat bobbing on the swallow, his eyes on the TV that I didn’t think he was watching.

  He shook his head no but didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell me to leave, but he didn’t ask me to stay. For a moment, I hovered, not sure what to do.

  After a few seconds of internal debate, I took a seat in the corner of the sectional and tucked my legs underneath me.

  His gaze swung to me, and I saw that his eyes were glassy. “What are you doing here, Sunshine Girl?”

  Sunshine Girl. He used to call me that when I was younger. He used to say that I was his sunshine girl because I had the most brilliant smile that lit up my whole face. He used to say it made him smile just to see me. But now, he wasn’t smiling. Not even a little bit. “I just came to see how you’re doing.”

  “Doing just fine.”

  But he wasn’t ‘just fine.’ That much was obvious. So I should have kept my mouth shut. I shouldn’t have asked the question that had been running through my head ever since I’d watched his press conference, ever since I’d heard that Alessia had cheated on him.

  “What happened? I don’t understand. Why would you retire? Why would you give up the thing you love most? Your passion. You’re one of the best motocross racers in the country.” All the words came out in a rush, my tongue tripping over itself to get them out before I could stop myself. “And you’re only twenty-seven… and you always said….”

  His eyes narrowed on me, the muscle in his jaw ticking. A warning that I was venturing into dangerous territory. “What did I always say?”

  I couldn’t say the words. I’d already said too much. But what Jesse had always said was, “If or when I retire, I’ll leave when I’m on top.”

  He hadn’t done what he said. Instead, he’d done the opposite. So none of this made sense.

  “I just don’t understand.”

  “There’s a lot of things you don’t understand. You’re just a teenager. You’ve lived a sheltered life. So how could you possibly understand?”

  “Was it because of your injury? Does your back still hurt?”

  “My back is just fine.”

  “Okay, so… why did you give it up?”

  “I’m done. Don’t have what it takes to be number one anymore.”

  “How can you say that? If you train hard and focus like you always did, you’ll come back stronger next season. I know you will.”

  He drank his beer and didn’t comment. I should have stopped, should have kept my mouth shut, but this seemed too important just to let it go, so I persevered.

  “You always said that not riding makes you miserable. You live for it. You love it. And you’re the best, Jesse. Everyone knows that. I know that.”

  He shook his head, disputing my words. “You’ve always put too much faith in me. That’s your problem, Quinn. I’m not the guy you think I am.”

  “What happened to you? The Jesse I used to know always said, “If anyone tells me it can’t be done, I’ll take it as a challenge and prove them wrong.” But now you’re just giving up?” I threw my hands in the air. “None of this makes sense.”

  “Why do you even care?”

  How could he even ask me that?

  “Because I do,” I whispered. “I care about you. I’ve always….” I cleared my throat. “I’ve known you all my life, Jesse. We’ve always been friends. And friends care. I care.”

  “You should go home. You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “You were always there for me when I needed you. I can’t just leave you like this.”

  “Like what? I had a few beers. I’m not shooting heroin into my veins. I’m not holding a gun to my head. I told you I’m fucking fine.”

  “But—”

  “Go home, Quinn.” He raised the volume on the movie he was watching and focused on the screen.

  I stared at his profile. At the set of his clenched jaw. His hooded eyes and shuttered expression. I’d never seen this side of Jesse before and had no idea he could be so mean. So closed-off. Where was the easy-going, laidback guy I used to know?

  Where was his smile? Had she taken that from him? Was this all because of her? Alessia Rossi. But it had to be something more than that, right? I didn’t know what to think.

  “Are you acting like this because of what happened on Christmas Eve? Because… I mean, we never talked about it, and I just thought….”

  He turned his head and stared at me blankly, with no recollection of Christmas Eve or that kiss.

  “You don’t remember?”

  He shrugged one shoulder, non-committal.

  “Just tell me you remember the kiss. We kissed,” I whispered.

  He ran his hand through his hair and laughed under his breath. “I was hoping you wouldn’t go there. You’ve never been good at taking a hint, have you? I didn’t bring it up because I was trying to save you the embarrassment.”

  “Embarrassment? Why… but…”

  “We didn’t kiss. You. Kissed. Me. You think I never noticed your schoolgirl crush, Quinn?” He was mocking me. “Everyone noticed.”

  Jesse McCallister, the love of my life, the guy of my dreams, was mocking me.

  Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back and gritted my teeth. That wasn’t how it happened. Why was he trying to pretend it was like that? I might have been inexperienced, but I wasn’t stupid.

  We’d kissed, and he had kissed me back. He’d pulled me close until our bodies were flush, and I had felt him. All of him. His body had responded to me just as much as mine had to him.

  How could he lie and pretend it had happened differently?

  I swallowed past the lump that had formed in my throat and got to my feet. The ground beneath me felt unsteady, but I squared my shoulders, and I looked Jesse right in the eye. Those summer sky eyes that used to make me weak in the knees whenever they landed on me. I steeled myself against the effect he’d always had over me, his words playing on repeat in my head.

  You think I never noticed your schoolgirl crush, Quinn?

  So hard. So cold. Nothing like the Jesse I used to know. My cheeks flamed with mortification, and I hated the way my voice quavered on the words, but I forced myself to say them anyway. “You were right about one thing. You’re not the guy I thought you were. I came over because I thought you might need a friend.”

  “You came over hoping to get laid. At least be honest about your intentions, Sunshine Girl.”

  I stared at him, so shocked that those words had come out of his mouth that I didn’t know how to respond or what to think. He shrugged one shoulder, so casua
l, so cavalier as if to say, Just telling it how I see it.

  And it was that casual little shrug and the look of indifference on his face that made the words sink in and burrow deep inside.

  My hands clenched into fists. My chest was heaving.

  How dare he say those words to me?

  My hand was itching to slap the arrogance off his face. Feel the sting on my palm and leave my handprint on his cheek. His gaze lowered to my clenched fists, and he jutted out his chin. “Go ahead. Punch me.”

  He probably wouldn’t even feel it. If anyone got hurt, it would be me. I took a few deep breaths trying to control my anger and my hurt. Emotion clogged my throat, and I couldn’t even speak.

  I hated him. I really, really did. I never thought it was possible to hate the guy I’d loved all my life, but somehow, he’d managed to make me do it. If I didn’t leave right now, I’d end up crying in front of him, and I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

  So I turned away from him, and I stumbled to the door, my eyes blurry with tears. My heart ached. God, this hurt so much. Jesse used to be so kind. So good. How could he have changed so much?

  My hand wrapped around the smooth brass doorknob, and I tried to yank the door open. The palm of Jesse’s hand flattened on the wood, his body caging me in. I could feel the heat of his skin, smell the beer and tequila on his breath as he leaned in close to the shell of my ear.

  “You might not see it now, but I’m doing you a favor.”

  I let out an incredulous laugh. “Don’t do me any more favors, asshole.”

  “You’re right. I am.”

  “What?”

  “An asshole. I am an asshole.”

  He took a few steps back, taking the heat of his body and the scent of his skin with him. Then, without turning to look at him again, I walked out the door.

  I didn’t let the tears fall until I was safely inside my car.

  How could I have gotten it so wrong? Maybe this was the real Jesse, and I’d just been too blind to see it. But, God, he must have gotten a good laugh at my expense. Poor little Quinn with her schoolgirl crush.