Falling for Hadley: A Novel (Chasing the Harlyton Sisters 2)

“This isn’t funny.” I pinch his nipple.

“You’re seriously violent.” He pushes back to rub his chest, laughter still tickling his tone until he sighs. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you, or be the guy pinning you down to the floor—well, for this reason anyway—but I’m trying to protect you. I swear.” His loud exhale sweeps across my face, his breath minty. “There’s a lot about this town you don’t know about yet. And there’re some areas … and certain people who are … trouble. Trust me; you don’t want to go wandering around alone out here.”

He’s being too evasive. I need more of an explanation.

“Does this have anything to do with my dad working for your dad?”

He wavers, studying me. “So, you know about that?”

“Well, you did just mention my dad to those guys who work for your dad. I can put two and two together.” I’m not ready to divulge that I overheard him talking to Alex.

“Shit, I forgot I said that.” He lowers his head as he curses under his breath. He’s so close now that his hair is tickling my cheek. It feels weirdly nice, having him this close. And for some stupid reason, it makes me think of that kiss yesterday. That kiss that felt like it burned me up from the inside out.

Deep down, inside a part I’ll never admit exists, I want to press my lips to his, which is why I lean away from him.

“Was I not supposed to know my dad works for yours?” I tilt my head to the other side.

Sighing, he meets my gaze. “Sort of. I mean, your dad asked us not to say anything. Said you wouldn’t understand.”

“How considerate of him,” I reply dryly. “And I’m sure there’s more to it than that. There always is with my dad.” When he shifts his weight, seeming awfully squirmy, I ask, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

He shrugs awkwardly as he props himself up on one arm. “If there is, it’s not like I’d tell you.”

“Well, that’s rude.”

“Well, isn’t the whole point of not telling someone just that? To not tell them, even if it’s rude? Besides, didn’t you just give me a whole speech while we were in the car about you knowing things you weren’t telling me and that you weren’t obligated to tell me, even if I asked?”

“It wasn’t a speech,” I correct. “It was a simple statement.”

He presses back a grin. “I’m starting to realize that, with you, nothing is simple … You’re a very intense girl.”

“You’re the one who’s lying on top of me. I think, right now, that statement might describe you more than it does me.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a girl,” he points out amusedly.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me.” In a sick, twisted way, I’m kind of enjoying getting under his skin, which shit, is something he already accused me of.

I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually this persistent with tormenting guys or anyone in general. Then again, people usually give up more easily. Blaise is as stubborn as me.

He mockingly scowls at me. “Hey, I’m not girlie-looking.”

“You’re pretty, though.” I shrug. “Pretty is a girlie word.”

He shakes his head, gaping at me. “I’m not pretty. I have piercings and tattoos, and the way I dress … none of that is girlie.”

I struggle not to smile, totally getting off on this. I’m screwed up. I really am. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Girlie girls can have piercings and tattoos, so I don’t think that saves your ass. Besides, even if it did, I don’t see any of these alleged piercings and tattoos.”

His brow curves upward. “You don’t believe I have them?”

“No, I don’t.” I grin at the look on his face. “It’s amusing how irritated you are about that.”

“Yeah, well, you’re about to be equally as irritated.” He sticks out his tongue that, sure enough, is glinting with a metallic piercing. “See? Piercing.” Then he dips his head and licks the side of my neck.

“What the hell?” I squeal, pushing him back. “Why did you do that?”

He gives a half-shrug, seeming pretty damn pleased with himself. “You wanted proof. I figured that was the best way to give it to you.”

“By licking me?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

I wipe my neck. “Because it’s gross.”

“Sure it is.” And there’s that smug smile again.

Screw him and his licking.

“Fine, if you don’t think so, then I’m sure you won’t mind me doing this.” I raise my head and slide my tongue along his neck, making sure to drool a bit on his skin for good measure.

Instead of squealing, he curses, then licks my damn neck again.

“Stop!” I whine, but laughter is bursting from my lips.

I’m not even sure what the hell is so funny, yet I’m laughing like an idiot. I realize it’s been a long time since I laughed this hard. I’ve been so stressed out lately. For years, actually.

Blaise is laughing, too, as he wipes his neck off.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m crazy?” I work to calm my laughter. “You’re the one who started a licking war. Who does that?”

“Why are you guys licking each other?” Alex’s exhausted voice drifts from across the living room.

Blaise tenses then climbs off me, offering his hand to help me up. When I stand up without his help, he frowns, and I feel sort of bad, but I keep my apology to myself.

Sighing, he turns to Alex, who’s leaning against the doorway, his eyelids half open, his skin pale.

“You finally decided to wake up, huh?” The playfulness in Blaise’s demeanor is nonexistent as he stares at his brother.

Alex shrugs, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Only because you two were being so damn loud.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Blaise snaps. “I’ve been here for over an hour trying to wake your ass up. I was one step away from carrying you out to the car.”

Alex yawns, blinking his bloodshot eyes. “Why are you even here? I thought I messaged you not to come?” His gaze strays to me and narrows. “And why the hell is she here?”

“She was helping me this morning when Dad texted Rhyland to come get you.” Blaise flexes his hands, struggling to keep his cool. “And you can try to text me all you want and tell me not to come get you, but I’m going to every time. You should know that by now.”

“Only because you love being a pain in my ass.” Alex clumsily strides toward him. “I don’t get why you think you have any control over me. I’m almost eighteen; I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Blaise’s tone oozes sarcasm as he burns Alex with a look.

Alex slams his hands against Blaise’s chest. “Fuck you, man. You don’t know anything about me.”

Blaise stumbles, the muscles in his jaw pulsating. “I know you’re an addict.”

“Fuck you,” Alex seethes, getting in Blaise’s face. “I can quit anytime I want. I just don’t want to.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Blaise seethes. “And I think deep down you know that.”

“I’m not an addict,” Alex’s declares, his face reddening as his fingers curl into fists. “I choose to get high.”

“If that’s the case, then why?” Blaise’s tone marginally softens. “Why are you choosing to slowly kill yourself?”

“That’s none of your damn business,” Alex mutters lowly. Then he steps back, raising his hands in front of him. “You know what? Fuck this. I’m getting another fix.”

“Not an addict, huh?” Blaise challenges with a raise of his brow.

“I’m choosing to do this,” Alex throws back as he hurries for the doorway. “I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Alex …” Blaise starts, chasing after him.

They disappear out of the room. Moments later, a door slams, followed by a lot of banging. Then silence.

I deliberate what to do, whether to go out to the car or not. I’d probably feel more awkw

ard if I hadn’t spent the last handful of years having similar arguments with my dad, sometimes in front of an audience.

After a minute ticks by, I slowly inch toward the doorway. “Blaise?”

A pause of silence, and then he mumbles shakily, “Yeah, just a sec.”

I hesitantly peer around the corner.

He’s standing just a ways down a dark hallway with his head resting against a door, his eyes shut, his body flowing with tension.

I almost turn around, let him have his meltdown, but … I don’t know, sometimes, when I’m about to break apart, I secretly wish someone would help me hold it together. Not that I’d ever tell anyone that. Besides, the only people in my life who’d help me are the people I’d rather not see me have meltdowns.