Chapter 1 Mazzie #2
“The monthly state check came in early. Car keys. Where are they? I know they’re here because your car is in the driveway.
” Her voice deepened, and I could hear that she was stone-cold sober, a far cry from earlier this week when she was passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of wine on the floor beside her.
If I didn’t tell her, she would bug the crap out of me. “They’re in my backpack in my room.”
“When are you coming home?” she asked. “We need to talk.”
I was now standing outside the pool house. “About what?”
“Family business.”
My muscles tensed. “If you’re about to dump another man on us, I will pack my bags.”
“Daughter, don’t throw out idle threats.”
This conversation was over. “I’m staying at Bailey’s tonight. After I pick up Kaylee tomorrow evening, I’ll be home.”
“I’ll pick up my daughter. You make sure you’re here by six.” She hung up before I could protest.
I wanted to throw my phone over the back fence into the wide-open field. Instead, I proceeded to use the facilities, seething the whole time about my mother.
As I returned to the festivities several minutes later, I spotted the birthday boy standing with his football buddies and laughing with a drink in his hand as though his family problems were solved. I dumped my phone in my bag and grabbed my cup.
“What’s wrong?” Bails asked. “Didn’t get laid?”
Leave it to her and her psychology classes to see right through me.
“My mom called. You know how she can take my anger barometer from zero to eighty in seconds. But let’s not talk about her. I’m getting another drink. Do you want a refill?”
“I’m good. Say hi to the birthday boy while you’re over there.” She lowered her sunglasses and waggled her brows.
I flipped her off then skirted bodies sitting on the edge of the pool with their legs dangling in the water.
As much as I was trying to shuck the aftereffects of the call, I couldn’t seem to relax.
While I opened the spout on the mango concoction, I was planning out where I would live if my mom had another guy move in.
I took a sip—or rather, a large gulp—and a brain freeze hit me.
Wincing, I spun around and crashed straight into what felt like a brick wall.
My drink exploded between us, sticky mango sweetness splattering across tanned skin peeking out of his unzipped hoodie.
I should have been mortified, but the brain freeze had literally shut down my ability to do anything other than look up into startled eyes the color of shiny copper pennies.
Next thing I knew, time slowed as gravity took the wheel, and Lucas freaking Allen’s strong fingers closed around my wrist, his other hand instinctively reaching for my waist as we plunged backward into the chlorinated abyss, my body tethered to his.
The world dissolved, and as the brain freeze cleared, the terrifying knowledge that I was heading straight for the chlorinated water had me squirming and panicking.
As we broke the surface, I gasped for air, blinking water from my eyes, praying I didn’t get any of the chemical in them.
“Whoa,” he said in a raspy tone that was sexy and gentle, which didn’t match the guy I’d seen with storm clouds on his face and a phone to his ear. Now, he wore that easy smile like a mask.
What the hell had I crashed into?
“You okay?” That damn voice of his awakened parts of me that had been dormant for over a year.
Up close, he was hotter than the pictures I’d seen on Instagram. He had the perfect lips that I wouldn’t mind kissing.
“I’m—” My skin began to prickle, a warning that a rash would be next. “I need to get out. I’m allergic to—”
Before I could finish, he was helping me out of the water, both of us dripping wet. He peeled off his hoodie and tossed it onto an empty chair like it weighed too much to carry.
The music had stopped, and even without looking at the crowd, I could feel every eyeball on me. The embarrassment was real, and I usually wasn’t one to care what others thought of me. Still, my first party in ages, and I pushed the guest of honor in the pool.
He waved his hand around. “We’re fine.”
“Speak for yourself,” I muttered, wanting to trace the water droplets sliding down over his massive biceps.
Why everyone clapped was beyond me. But voices began to buzz, and the music resumed, easing the sting of humiliation on my cheeks.
“So, allergic? To me?” The question came with a boyish grin that shouldn’t have sent warmth spreading through my belly, not when my skin was beginning to itch.
“Definitely the pool water,” I managed, trying to ignore the itchy feeling that was crawling down my arms. “The jury’s still out on you.”
He chuckled as something flashed in his eyes—surprise, amusement, challenge—before his gaze dropped to my chest, and my pulse kicked into overdrive.
We had hit the water hard, so I was praying my breasts hadn’t made a break for it beneath my see-through, mid-rise shirt.
I followed his line of sight, blew out a relieved breath that my girls were still covered, and then winced, wanting to crawl out of my skin.
“You really are allergic to chlorine.”
I started scratching my arm. “I need Benadryl.”
He examined the area on my forearm where I was making the rash come to life. “Oh, shit. Come with me.”
Before I could protest or flag Bailey down to grab my purse, he took my hand, and an electric current shot through me like a bolt of lightning.
What the hell? I’d never been affected like this by a guy before.
“Somethin’ ’Bout A Woman” was playing, and I silently laughed because it should’ve been Somethin’ ’Bout Lucas Allen because he was suddenly doing a number on me—butterflies, sweaty palms, and heart palpitations.
He tugged me past Erik and Ryker, his best friend and QB1, who tossed him a towel with that classic bro smirk of approval.
I tried to pull away, but Lucas’s grip was ironclad.
Once we were inside the house, he turned to me and draped the towel around my shoulders. “Sit,” he said, and that voice of his had my stomach doing flips again.
Why I was obeying had me silently questioning my sanity. I wasn’t one to take orders unless I was on the clock. It had to be the drawl. That damn southern drawl that turned my spine to goo.
He squatted down, inspecting my arm and every inch of my exposed skin.
I wanted to say I could take care of myself, but I was digging the attention. No one had ever looked after me when I got hurt.
“Do you do this for all your women?”
His grin was sexy and sleek as he studied the rash.
While I waited for his response, my gaze wandered up the line of his jaw, across his chest, and to those arms that could probably deadlift a truck, and I noticed the cool tattoo on his bicep.
I was about to ask him what the significance was about his trinity tattoo with a heart tangled inside, but a moan escaped me. A freaking moan.
He caught the sound and responded with a smirk that curled the corner of his lips.
Silence tethered us together, thick and intimate.
This wasn’t just chemistry. This was temptation with a name and a jawline.
And I didn’t have time for temptation.
I was in trouble. The kind I’d promised myself I would avoid.