Rebel Soul

A quick glance at my phone screen tells me it’s barely past six, making it highly unlikely for anyone else to be awake. As much as I’d like to go back to sleep, once I’m up…I’m up. Which means I need two things, stat—piping hot coffee and a steaming hot shower.

Not wanting to wake AJ or Brock, I pad quietly across the hall and into the guest bath. I open the shower door and turn the faucet dial as hot as it can go, stripping out of my panties and shirt as I wait for the water to warm.

Finally, when steam fills the room, I step in, pulling the heavy sheet of glass closed behind me. I take my time, letting the nearly scalding water and luxurious soap wash away some of my worries.

Once I’m shampooed, conditioned, and scrubbed thoroughly, I shut off the water and step out. The frigid air meets my wet body, causing chill bumps to dot my skin.

I grab the towel from the hook and wrap it around myself just as the bathroom door flies open. A silent scream builds and I nearly drop my towel as a shirtless West saunters in. “Oh!” I gasp when I catch a glimpse of the impressive erection tenting the front of his sweats. “My God. What are you doing here?”

He grins lazily, his blue eyes raking over my body has my nipples tightening in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. “In the bathroom or here in general?” His voice is a sultry drawl—all rasp and gravel. God, why is he so hot? I’m so caught up in staring at him that I don’t even realize he replied.

He steps closer, invading my personal space as if it doesn’t even exist. “Stacia.” He runs the knuckle of his index finger beneath my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “Are you okay?”

I shake off my weird lusty haze and step back. “I’m fine,” I reply tersely, hating how off my game this shit with Dad has me. I’ve never been the kind of girl to get tongue-tied in the company of a good-looking man—hell, I’ve had this particular man’s tongue down my throat and hands on my breasts and have never once faltered in his presence. Now, here I am acting like a virginal schoolgirl with a crush. Get it together, Stacia!

“Fine. You’re fine?” he asks, brow quirked, and I nod. “Well, my mother may not have ever taught me much that was useful in life, but something she did teach me is that when a woman says she’s fine, she’s anything but.” He steps closer again, eating up the minuscule space I managed to put between us. “So, I’m gonna ask again, are you okay?”

My shoulders sag, and tears cling to my lashes. “Honestly? No. Not really. My mom’s a mess—basically a zombie at this point. My grandparents are in town to help, but they can’t really afford to stay. The Feds seized most of our assets, including the house. My dad’s bond is astronomical and cash only, and I just…I can’t catch my fucking breath. It’s like I’m barely treading water, and the waves are just getting bigger and bigger, and at any second I know a massive swell is going to break and pull me out to the depths, where I’ll surely drown.”

Before I even have a chance to be humiliated by my massive overshare, West wraps his corded arms around me and pulls me into his warm, muscled chest, my tears painting his skin. Usually, I would balk at looking so weak, but fuck, I need this. This link, this connection, this…primal sort of comfort.

We stay locked in our embrace until my eyes dry and my breathing evens out. “It’s gonna be okay, Stacia.”

I pull back and eye him skeptically.

With the back of his hand, West brushes my damp hair out of my face. “I don’t know how, but it will be. You’re a warrior, and I know you’ll figure this out. Plus, you’ve got backup. AJ would go to the fucking moon and back for you—which means you’ve got Brock and me by default. You’re not alone, so let the people who care about you help.”

His words send a little zing of hope through me, and I offer him a weak smile. “Thanks, West.”

“Anytime.” His teeth graze his lower lip as he slides his eyes over me one last time. “I’ll just use Brock’s bathroom.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving me alone to work through the confusing maelstrom of emotions currently wreaking havoc on my system. How I can feel utterly helpless and so damn turned on all at once is beyond me.

Chapter Five

Stacia

By the time I’m back in my room, my galloping heart has finally slowed to a canter. Never in my life has a man gotten me so worked up by doing so little. Stress and lack of caffeine—that’s what I’m chalking it up to. Because, seriously, I’ve known West Larson for years, and while he’s always been able to get my panties a little wet, he’s never made me dick-dumb. And just now, in the bathroom, that’s exactly what I was.