“Maybe that’s just because he hasn’t let you get to know the real him. I don’t know the full story, but from what I can gather, he had his heart broken a really long time ago, and I don’t think he’s ever allowed it to heal. Just give it time. He’ll come out of his shell. You’ve just got to poke the bear a little bit, and from what I’ve seen so far, I don’t think you’ll have any problem doing that.”

Oh, great. I guess that makes sense. Some idiot girl along the way ruined him for the rest of us. Now I know I can’t let myself develop feelings for a guy who’s still broken up over someone from his past.

“I have no idea what I’ve just gotten myself into, do I?” I whisper, more to myself than to her, but she hears me and grins.

“Maybe not, but it’s sure as hell going to be fun finding out.”

Knox

I’M FUMING as my I make my way to the bar, where I down a shot before Jace even makes it to me and do another one with him after he crutches over. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never meddled when it comes to me and women, and he’s often played wingman for me. He knows good and well that I’ve never wanted to shack up with a chick.

“What the fuck, dude?” I ask him. He just stares at me with a stupid smile on his face. If my arm weren’t in a cast and he weren’t on crutches, I’d seriously be considering going a couple rounds right now. One of the things I miss the most is getting my aggression out in the ring, and I could go for kicking some ass—preferably his.

“Oh come on, man. I’m doing you a favor. Stop acting like a baby and just accept the help for once in your life.”

“Yeah, easy for the guy with the doting girlfriend to say. You just invited a virtual stranger to move into my house with me, a girl who I don’t even know if I like or if she even likes me. We haven’t exactly become besties this past week, you know?” I say through my teeth.

“Besties? Really? Are you sure you weren’t lying when you told Charlie you don’t do slumber parties?” Jace asks teasingly, apparently having heard my comment to her earlier.

“Whatever, Jace. You know what I mean. Plus, you just told me earlier today that I was a dick to her, so why would you even try to subject her to that? Aren’t you afraid I’ll scare away your new little friend?” I don’t know what it is about her that makes him seem protective, but he’s been in her corner ever since we all met, and it’s kind of irritating, especially since he barely knows her.

“Nah, I know you’re not a complete tool. You just like to act like one. I like her. She seems like the kind of girl who doesn’t take any shit, especially yours, and god, I fucking love that about her. And well…it was pretty damn awesome the way she called me out that night we met. She wasn’t sulky even after you pulled that dick move. She has balls, and I think that’s the kind of girl you need.”

“I need a girl with balls?” Now I’m wondering if Jace was the one who hit his head a little too hard that fateful day in Afghanistan.

“Of steel,” he tells me, grinning into his beer bottle. “Huge balls of steel. Proverbial ones, of course. You know, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, thanks for the clarification, asshole.” I playfully punch his shoulder.

“Look, just give it a chance. It could be good for you. And I think, in some crazy way, it’ll be good for her, too. Three months. You stick it out for the summer and I won’t make you finish War and Peace if you don’t want to.”

It’s like he just offered me the Stanley Cup carrying a Super Bowl ring all rolled up with an NBA Championship ring, letting me off the hook from reading that book. I know I’m not going to be able to say no. “Do I get the entire summer off from reading it?”

A slow smirk forms on his face, as if he knows something I don’t. “Works for me. You’re officially on summer break, and if you last the entire summer, you can put it back on your shelf and let it collect dust.”

He holds his hand out to seal the deal. Sighing, I shake, wondering what in the hell I’m getting myself into, but I can’t help the anticipation I feel for the upcoming challenge.

Charlie

A LOUD banging pulls me from my sleep. I wince when I open my eyes as the bright light pouring in the large side window blinds me. My head is pounding, the after effects of mixing too much beer and tequila, and I groan, wishing I’d said no to that last shot. In fact, I probably should’ve said no to the last three shots, but after Knox and Jace came back from their bar conversation, things were a little tense at the table. I did what I always do in uncomfortable situations—order tequila. I can barely remember Lexi dropping me off at Knox’s, and I’m beginning to wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

When I feel the bed shift beside me, my heart begins to race. Even though I was intoxicated, I know I didn’t bring anyone back with me, so there’s only one guess as to whose bed I’m in. Peeking under the covers, I’m relieved to find that I’m clothed, but that’s short-lived when I realize that I’m in a pair of his boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt, presumably also his.

I’m wearing his fucking clothes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, I think, trying to remember how I ended up in his clothes, but my mind’s drawing a blank. Turning towards him, I’m thankful to find that he’s still asleep, and although I know I need to get out of here, I can’t help but look at him.

Knox is lying on his back, his broken arm propped up on a pillow next to him. My eyes drift down to his body and I can see the outline of muscles on his lower abdomen as the sheet falls just below his belly button. His dog tags rise and fall with every breath. I want to reach out and touch them and then stroke the skin that they lie on. His face is beautiful and serene, and for the first time since I met him, he looks completely vulnerable. Something about it takes my breath away. He’s gorgeous when he’s awake, but right now it’s unnerving how breathtaking he is when he looks so peaceful. I can’t help but move a little closer to him, stopping just inches away.

My eyes fall on his left rib, where I’ve previously spotted a tattoo but haven’t ever been able to study it. Taking a closer look, I see the words “Perfer et obdura; Dolor hic tibi proderit olim.” I’m pretty sure that it’s Latin. Now I’m even more curious to know what it means and what caused him to get those words tattooed on his skin.

My hand takes on a mind of its own as my fingers reach out and graze the skin where the tattoo is. It goes on a quest, in search of every scar that covers his torso. I can see where shrapnel tore into his skin and feel the raised scar tissue underneath my touch. No matter how much he can drive me crazy, I can’t help but wonder how much pain and suffering he’s seen and had to endure. My heart aches at the thought of him lying on that road in Afghanistan, unconscious, bruised, broken, and burned. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and scarred, a strange sadness washes over me, and I wonder if his experiences of loss have played a role in the gruff exterior he likes to portray.

As my fingers trace the lines in his abs, a moment goes by and I swear I feel him tense beneath me, causing my fingers to freeze and my breath to catch. Terrified that he’s going to catch me, I’m holding it, my fingers still lightly touching him but no longer moving. A moment passes, and then another. Relief flows through me when he doesn’t wake and his breathing stays normal. I’m hoping it was just a fluke and that he didn’t actually feel me making my exploration.

My heart is still racing, and I don’t know if it’s from the fact that I was almost caught or if it’s from the close proximity to him. I’m completely confused at my reaction to him. I want to gouge his eyes out in one moment and then rip his clothes off in the next. He’s sweet, he’s an ass, he’s warm, he’s cold. He flirts, he scowls, he drives me absolutely crazy, but dammit if my heart doesn’t melt when he smiles. Not that it’s often, but I love that smile—the one he gives when he doesn’t think anyone’s really paying attention, when the smile actually reaches his eyes.