Trigger Warnings For Reason to Believe: Foster Care, Adoption, neglect of a child, death of a parent (in past)

Chapter One

Knox

7 Years Ago

I leaned into the fridge and grabbed a couple of off-brand sodas. Alcohol would have been preferable—finals week had been a bitch, but there was zero chance Mrs. Anders would have been cool with it.

Ryker? Sure. He was twenty-one.

But I was still twenty for another six months. It was the perpetual curse for having skipped second grade—I was in the same class as my friends but always a year younger.

“Hey, Ry, can you hand me Vic’s boutonniere?” a light, feminine voice asked from behind me. My pulse leapt in response.

With robotic movements, I grabbed the clear box with the white rose from the second shelf and stood to my full height.

I felt her indrawn breath run through every nerve in my body as I slowly turned around, the sight of her making my fingers flex, my grip denting the sides of the flimsy plastic box.

“Knox.” Her eyes widened in surprise, and she finished my name with that breathless hitch that never failed to kick me in the stomach.

“Harper,” I answered, somehow forming the word without swallowing my tongue.

“I…I didn’t realize you were here.” Her long blond hair was up in some kind of soft arrangement that begged for hands to tunnel through it, and her strapless dress—the same blue-green color of her eyes—hugged every damn curve on its way to the floor.

Harper was no longer the little girl who’d followed us around the fire station as we grew up. She was eighteen, now. A full-grown woman on her way to her senior prom.

She was also my best friend’s little sister.

Little sister. That was exactly how I was supposed to think of her, considering I’d spent most of my teenage years in this very house, but my thoughts were anything but brotherly as I tracked the swell of her breasts rising with every breath she took. Her lips were full and glossed, her skin flawless, and her lashes impossibly long. In the past year, she’d gone from beautiful—she’d always been beautiful—to…gorgeous. Really fucking gorgeous.

And I was staring.

Speak.

“Just got back today. I drove in with Ryker.” I slid the boutonniere and the sodas onto the counter and leaned back against it, drinking in the sight of her.

I wasn’t unaware of the affect she’d always had on me. Oh no, I was all too familiar with it, but I’d kept my hands off Harper for three reasons. The first was that I couldn’t afford to piss off Ryker—he and our best friend, Bash, were the only family I had left besides Gran. The second reason? I had a social and legal rap sheet about a million miles long in this town that proved I was nowhere near good enough to be anything but her friend. The third? I had every intention of becoming a hotshot firefighter just like our dads had been—like Bash already was, and Harper wanted nothing to do with that life.

Not that I could blame her. It had only been four years since the Legacy Mountain fire burned our town—and our fathers—to ash.

“Right.” She flashed a shaky smile and shook her head. “I mean, I knew you were home, I just didn’t know you were in our house.” She winced, her cheeks turning pink. “Not that you shouldn’t be in our house. Of course you should. You’ve always pretty much lived here and you’re always welcome, you know that. Heck, you have a key. I just didn’t realize that you were…you know, here.” She finished her babbling and laced her fingers in front of her.

God, I’d missed her. There was no point fighting my smile. I’d adored that about her—the babbling. To everyone else in our tiny hometown of Legacy, Colorado, Harper was cool, confident, and completely empowered. But when we got within ten feet of each other, she got flustered. Had to admit, I liked being able to fluster the belle of our little ball. Half the time I fucked with her just to get her flustered. She was mine in a way no one else was—to fluster, aggravate, protect, and even adore…but never touch.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She smoothed her hands over the high, jeweled waistline of her dress to settle on her hips. “It’s prom night.”

“I noticed.”

She walked forward across the kitchen, reaching past me for the little plastic box. Harper was fucking tiny, a full foot shorter than my six-foot-three height, and even with her wearing heels, I towered over her.

She glanced at the clock on the stove and swallowed hard. “Almost time.” Her hand trembled as she slipped off the silver elastic around the box and then popped open the plastic buttons.

Something was off here.

“Why are you nervous?” I asked quietly, knowing Ryker would walk in any second and she’d clam up.

Her gaze flew to mine, those blue-green eyes slaying me like no one else’s had in the entire three years I’d been at Boulder. Not that there hadn’t been girls—there were always girls, but none of them affected me like Harper, and it was damn unsettling. If she’d been anyone else—

Stop it.

She fumbled the box.

“Harper, why are you nervous?” I repeated.

“I’m not,” she blatantly lied, grabbing the boutonniere from the floor before I could. There was still a slight tremble to her hands as she put the box back on the counter, but she straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin, plastering a plastic smile on her face that set my teeth on edge. “It’s nice to see you, Knox.”

She dismissed me and walked away, heading down the hall.

Let her go.

But I couldn’t. Something was obviously bothering her.

Against my better judgment, I followed her down the hall, then leaned against the open doorframe of the downstairs bathroom as she checked her already perfect makeup and looked over the contents of a small purse.

“What, Knox?” she snapped, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

“Why are you nervous?” I asked again. “And this time, don’t lie.”

Her eyes spat fire back at me.

Flustered.

“Is it the guy?” I walked into the bathroom, and she retreated, her back bumping against the towel rack in the small space. Then I closed the door and leaned against it. “It’s just the two of us, and I promise I won’t tell Ry, but please tell me why your hands were shaking out there. Prom night is supposed to be fun.”

Her lips pursed. “The way you had fun with Angie Crawford afterward?”

I blinked. “How would you know—”

“I’m not an idiot, Knoxville Daniels.” Her arms crossed under her breasts.

And there it was—the name no one else dared to call me but Harper threw around like it was hers, and in a way, I guess it was.

“Okay, well, I had a…good time with Angie,” I agreed. A very good time, where we’d both ended up naked on the edge of Lake Hawkins— “Wait. Do you think this guy is going to pressure you for sex? Because I’ll fucking kill—”

Her hand was across my mouth faster than I could finish. “Shhh! If Ryker hears you, I’ll die a virgin.”

Wait. What? I was down with that plan.

She glared up at me. “I’m not kidding. It took forever to find a guy to take me tonight who wasn’t scared of the three of you, and you are not ruining this.” She slowly lowered her hand. “It’s bad enough that Bash will be there with Emerson, which means I’ll have to avoid my best friend all night.”

“You’re a virgin?”

“Hung up on that fact, are you?”

“Maybe.” Hell yes, I was. Harper talked a good game, constantly teasing Emerson that she needed to jump Bash—who was basically gnawing off his arm, waiting for Em’s eighteenth birthday. “I guess I thought from the way you talked…”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “That I was experienced?”

“That you were firmly in charge of your sexuality,” I corrected, knowing how quickly Harper could turn a phrase on me.

“Oh, I am. I am firmly in control of what I want, and how I’m going to get it. But Ryker, and Bash and…you”—she stabbed a finger in my chest—“scared off almost every single guy at Legacy High before you left for college. You three are like the forcefield of death, so I haven’t exactly had the opportunity, and now I’m going to my senior prom an unkissed virgin with a guy who is way more experienced, according to a quarter of the girls in the senior class, so yeah, maybe I’m a little nervous that I’ll be bad at it, and he’ll know I’m…” She shook her head.

“A virgin,” I repeated, wondering who I had failed to scare away from Harper. The three of us had been pretty damn thorough in a high school that boasted only a couple hundred students. Wait…did she say unkissed?

“Why do you keep saying that word?”

“Because you are.” I shrugged.

“Not for long. That is the whole dream date, right? Losing it on prom night?”

I would have believed her bravado if her voice hadn’t hitched and her lip quivered slightly.

“Not to everyone. You’re supposed to wait until you’re in love. That’s the dream.” And it was what she deserved.

“And you were in love with Angie Crawford?” Was that jealousy in her tone?

“No. And she wasn’t my first.” Or my second.

Harper’s mouth dropped open for a second before she snapped it shut. “How many have there been? Did you love your first?”

That simple question felt loaded, not only inquisitive, but intimate. “No,” I answered truthfully. “I’ve never been in love.” I wasn’t capable of it. “And my numbers are nothing to aspire to.” If anything, they were evidence to how irrevocably fucked up I was, running through girls like water, always looking for something I couldn’t find, walking out before someone else had the chance to.

Her posture softened. “Well, at least you’re not an unkissed virgin, right?” She forced a little laugh. “You weren’t nervous on prom night.”

“Harper,” I whispered, my stomach twisting, hating everything about how she felt right now. “Do you want this guy to be your first…everything?” I ignored the ache in my chest that screamed for her to deny it.

Her gaze darted to the wall as she offered a little shrug.

“You’re not supposed to feel like this.” I gently lifted her chin until we locked eyes. She was too damn beautiful for her own good. Too smart, and kind, and fiery, and fucking perfect. Whoever the hell the guy was didn’t deserve any part of her. Not that I did either. “Kissing…sex isn’t about getting it over with. It’s about mutual need, and want, and desire. It’s about craving something—someone—so badly that there’s no other option than to get your hands on them. If you’re lucky, it’s about love and using your body to communicate, not just take. If you’re this nervous, then don’t waste something as precious as your first kiss—your first time—on some guy whose only quality is not being scared of Bash and Ryker.”

“Or you,” she corrected.

A primal jolt of protectiveness I had no right to feel surged up my spine. “Yeah, well, he should be scared of me. If he does one thing you don’t want him to, I’ll fucking destroy him—Bash and Ryker be damned. All you have to do is call, and I’ll be there to end him.”

No one was going to touch her without her wholehearted participation. Shit, I didn’t want anyone touching her, period, but that wasn’t my call. It didn’t matter that every instinct in my body suddenly demanded I lay some kind of claim on the one woman I wasn’t allowed to want.

“Show me,” she whispered.

“My number?” I reached into my back pocket for my phone.

“No. Show me…the want, the need. Kiss me.”

Fuck. Me. Every muscle in my body locked as my attention shifted to her mouth. “Harper—”

“What’s one little kiss? You’ve probably had thousands.”

One kiss was everything if it was with her.

Logic warred with my instincts, and the selfish asshole I was overpowered every rational thought. I wanted that kiss. I wanted to be the first to feel how soft her lips were, to hear whatever sounds she’d make. I wanted to show her how good a kiss could feel, how it was a complete act all on its own. I wanted to be the man she compared every other guy to after this moment, and that wasn’t right.

“Please? I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Just…show me. Because I know you can, and what if I never feel it, and what happens tonight…I just…I trust you.” She smiled. “You’re Knox.”

Oh shit. The want morphed into the kind of need I couldn’t deny, not with her looking at me like that. The impossible transformed into the inevitable in less than a heartbeat.

You can’t.

“Harper…” I took her face in my hands, my thumbs lightly stroking across her cheekbones. “It’s not a good—”

She surged on her toes, slamming a kiss onto my mouth. It was hard, close-lipped, and over before I could react. She pulled back, looking up at me with apprehension and wide eyes.

“You kissed me,” I said slowly. She’d given me her first kiss. Me. Not the guy currently on his way to pick her up. Not anyone at school. Me.

Mine.

“I did. And now, I’ve been kissed.” Her shrug was all for show.

“No, you haven’t.” Fine, I was going to hell, because there was no stopping this. That quick little peck had been the first trickle of snow that signaled the oncoming avalanche. All I could do was hold on and hope we both survived as I slowly lowered my head toward hers, giving her an eternity to pull away. “Not yet.”

She sucked in a breath, and her eyes fluttered shut a second before I kissed her, brushing my lips over hers like we had all the time in the world. She was even softer than I’d imagined.

She sighed and I kissed her again, lightly sucking on her lower lip and letting my tongue glide over the plump flesh. I’d never taken such care with a girl, measured and savored every single motion and reaction. Then again, I’d never kissed Harper.

“Knox,” she whispered, leaning in for more.

I gave it to her, kissing her a little deeper, running my tongue over the seam of her lips. Pure heat shot through me, singeing my nerves, burning the sound of my name on her lips into my memory. She gasped, and I sank inside her mouth with a groan, my fingers sliding back into her hair.

My tongue rubbed along hers, tasting something sweet I couldn’t place. She caught on quickly, swirling and stroking as she melted against me. Fuck, this was perfect—damn near divine. I turned us until she was pinned to the bathroom counter and brought our bodies flush.

She moaned, her arms twining around my neck to pull me closer.

Oh God, that was too good. It was all too good, too much.

It had to stop.

Her tongue found its way into my mouth, and all thoughts of stopping flew out the window. She explored and stroked, and I sucked her deeper, wanting her to mark me, to lay claim in the way I was desperate to with her.

In some bizarre way, this felt like my first kiss too.

Her nails bit into the back of my neck, and I nearly lost what self-control I had. I wanted those nails raking down my back, leaving tiny red trails on my bare skin. I wanted Harper. Only Harper. I wanted her under me, her thighs around my hips, her back arching as I made her come. My dick throbbed at the thought of how hot she’d be when I slid inside her, how I’d teach her how to move. How she’d teach me how to love.

Taking control of the kiss, I leaned into her, letting her feel exactly how badly I wanted her. She rolled her hips back against mine, and a low rumble sounded from my chest.

The tether of my control frayed, and I took her mouth like I wanted to take her body, with long, sure strokes. Our tongues twisted and tangled, until the kiss turned from a slow, sensual exploration into a wildfire of pure, scorching need. I cradled her head, tilting her for a deeper angle, knowing if I moved my hands in the slightest, they were going up her dress to discover if she was just as molten all over.

She nipped at my lip, sucking it into her mouth, and I couldn’t hold back my groan. She was softer than silk, and everything I wanted—and couldn’t have.

Ever.

This was madness, and it had to stop.

I slowed the kiss, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from the simple connection of our mouths. Then with one last, lingering caress of my lips, I lifted my head.

“Harper.” Her name was a reverent whisper as I leaned my forehead against hers.

“Knoxville.” She sighed. Her hands traced my cheeks, her fingers grazing over my finals-week stubble.

“Now you’ve been kissed.” It took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to kiss her again.

She nodded slowly, her fingers brushing her swollen lips. “Is it always like that?”

“Like what?” I could hardly think, how was she putting sentences together?

“As necessary as air? Like you’ll die if you stop? Like the ache will burn you alive?” She reached for me.

I took two giant steps back, putting my ass against the wall. I had to get out of this bathroom before whatever was left of my control snapped.

“Is it?” she asked again, her eyes glazed.

I should have lied—should have told her that a kiss was just a kiss. But I couldn’t. Not when the last few minutes had just thrown my entire world off its fucking axis, not when my gravity shifted from the center of the earth…to her.

“No.” It was the most honest and damning word I’d ever spoken. Heavy footsteps sounded above us, coming down the stairs. Ryker. My stomach pitched. He was going to kick my ass if he found us like this, and I’d deserve it. “And it can’t ever happen again. Not between us.”

Even if he busted my lip over what had just happened it would have been worth it.

Her entire face fell. “What? Why?”

Because you’re dangerous. Because you have the power to rip me apart. Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and nothing I deserve. Because there’s something broken in me that even you can’t fix. Because you’re Ryker’s little sister. Pick one.

“Because it can’t,” I finally answered and then flat-out fled the small room.

I walked quickly down the hall and found Ryker standing in the kitchen.

“Dude, where did you go?” he asked.

“Bathroom,” I answered.

“What’s all over your face?”

I swiped my hand over my mouth. Tiny specks of shiny glitter. Harper’s lip gloss. “Nothing.”

Ryker looked at me strangely, but my gaze snapped to the kid coming in from the living room, walking with the kind of fake swagger that I normally would have laughed at, but not now. Vic Donaldson? Was she fucking serious? He’d been a punk as a freshman, and my guess was nothing had changed since I’d graduated. Fucking asshole. Asshole in a tux…because he was taking Harper to prom.

My Harper.

Not yours. Well, not his either.

I was in the kid’s face in two seconds flat, using every inch of my height to stare him down. “You know who I am?”

He glared up at me but nodded. Good to know my reputation was still intact.

“You see my face?” I pointed just to be sure he was following.

“Yeah, man, I see it,” he snapped, but the blood drained from his face.

“Good. Because if you touch her without her express, whole-hearted, sober consent, or if you so much as think of hurting her, this face will be the last thing you see as I put you in the fucking ground. Got it?”

“Whoa.” Ryker stepped closer, his forehead puckering.

“Do. You. Fucking. Understand. Me?” White-hot jealousy pumped through my veins.

“Got it,” the kid finally said.

“Knox,” Harper called out behind me.

I stared Vic down for another few seconds, until he knew I’d carry out my threat, and then I turned around to face Harper. Confusion put two lines between her eyebrows, and her lips were still bee-stung from our kiss.

The same lips Vic was going to try to kiss later.

Nausea rolled through my stomach.

“Why?” Harper asked.

We both knew she wasn’t asking why I’d just threatened to murder her date.

“Because you’re Ryker’s little sister.” It was the only answer that would keep her heart intact, keep her safe from me.

Devastation washed over her features so fast I thought I imagined it before she straightened her spine and forced a smile. “Got it. Vic, shall we?”

“You look hot,” the guy said with about as much charm as a drunken frat guy.

“You kids ready? I found the camera!” Mrs. Anders said as she came down the steps.

I anchored my feet next to Ryker in the kitchen, wishing my soda was tequila, while Mrs. Anders took pictures. My jaw clenched as Vic put his hands on Harper’s waist and pulled her close. The empty can crumpled in my grip. This was wrong.

With each second, something wild inside me grew louder, meaner, more irate, until it was screaming, clawing at my guts to get out, to be heard, demanding I throw Vic out on his ass and take Harper myself.

Do it.

Maybe Ryker would understand. Maybe he’d wish us well. Maybe the whole reason I could never commit to anyone at school was because I’d just been waiting for…Harper. Ryker was my best friend—my family. He knew I’d never intentionally hurt her.

Intentionally.

Twenty years of friendship was on the line, but this was Harper. My Harper. Even if she wasn’t mine, I was hers. So what, maybe I wasn’t worthy of her, maybe I’d fuck us both up in the end, but maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe the chance was worth the risk.

“Knox?” Ryker asked quietly as we watched Harper and Vic.

“Yeah?” I put the crushed can on the counter and prepared to make my move.

“You’re my best friend, and I consider you my brother. So, I’m only going to say this once.”

“Okay?” My gaze narrowed as Vic tucked Harper in against his chest.

“That list we keep? The one where we all get to name a girl that no one touches?”

“Yeah?” Bash had created it and named Emerson as his girl years ago. The penalty for touching a girl on the list? Immediate excommunication from our friendship, not that Ryker or I had cared enough about someone to call dibs, though.

“I’m ready to name my choice.” My usually laid-back friend’s voice went flat.

I looked my best friend in the eye and saw his expression go damn near glacial.

“My girl is Harper.” He said the words quietly, with an eerie calm that told me there would be no mercy given.

That instinct-driven wildman inside me who craved Harper more than air roared as Ryker’s words sliced through my emotional jugular. Pain like I’d never known shredded my insides, tearing through every cell until I expected to find myself standing in a puddle of blood and regret.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his brow lowering.

He’d never asked me for anything, not in all the years we’d been friends, but this wasn’t a request. It was a demand. A line. An ultimatum.

My gaze found Harper’s briefly before she turned for another picture. She was someone I’d never deserve. Hell, Ryker knew me best. If he’d somehow seen what was in my eyes and still didn’t think I was good enough for his sister, then I wasn’t.

“Knox?” he prompted.

I stood completely still, silently screaming as Harper threw me one last look, Vic ushering her out the door. The screen door slammed with brutal finality, and my heart stuttered, then slowed as the possibility of what could have been bled out right there on the kitchen floor.

She’d never be mine.

“I understand.”