I looked up at him; my breathing labored. Unlike the other faded football heroes from high school, Diesel had maintained his athletic physique, and after his time as a Marine, it only developed further. His tanned skin gleamed against his dark beard and hints of his tattoos licked up his neck from his t-shirt. He was the kind of guy that women literally drove cars into fire hydrants while staring at him, and the asshole knew it. His dark eyes surveyed me with a professional air. He tensed when his gaze came to rest on my wrists. Pulling a pocketknife from his jeans, he brought it to the ropes and slid it under. I jerked at the touch of the cold metal.
“Easy there, just trust me, Em,” he said quietly. “This looks sore.” His voice was tightly wound and furious.
“But you should see the other guy,” I joked lamely. Diesel looked up, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Where is he now? I need his name and last known address.”
“You know we need him to show up in court, not a hospital.”
“People can appear in court with broken limbs,” he said steadily, as if threatening to rush off and bust someone’s skull was a perfectly rational thing to do.
“Look, I did it to myself when I was trying to get out,” I admitted. Diesel was sawing the rope, and I let out a sigh of relief when it fell to the ground. My wrists didn’t look great now that they were bared. Diesel looked murderously at me, like he was annoyed at me now for hurting myself.
“I couldn’t get out. What if you hadn’t come? I had to try.” I shrugged off his touch and turned around, swiping my phone from the ground and ignoring the rope burn.
“I’ll always come for you, Emily,” Diesel said quietly behind me. I turned to see him studying me. “Whatever else you might think about me, know that, if you ever need me, for whatever reason, I’m there.”
That simple statement and the conviction that he said it with made my heart pound and my palms slick. Christ, he had no idea what a statement like that uttered by a man like him could do to a poor girl’s heart.
“Ok, well, back at you,” I mumbled.
His mouth quirked then, breaking the spell. “I don’t think I’ll need help from someone who got themselves tied up and locked in a trunk anytime soon, but thanks for the offer, sweet cheeks.”
I rolled my eyes. Just like that, he was an ass again. “You ruined it, and don’t call me sweet cheeks.”
“Just being honest. And you do have sweet cheeks, so it’s pretty fitting.”
I tossed my hair behind my shoulder. “I’ll have you know my chipmunk cheeks are long gone. Thanks for noticing,” I snapped at him, stomping away from his parked motorcycle.
He grabbed my arm as I made to pass him and leaned in close. “Maybe those weren’t the cheeks I was talking about,” he muttered, sending blood rushing to my face. I blinked up at him, but he’d already let me go. He swung a long, jean-clad leg over the leather seat of his bike and pulled an extra helmet out the back. He held it out to me.
“Get on, I’m taking you home.”
“I don’t need a ride,” I lied. I’d walked into town and didn’t particularly want to walk back, but there was something too intimate about sitting pressed against Diesel when he rode.
“I’m sorry if I phrased that wrong. It wasn’t a request.” He tossed the helmet at me, and I caught it reflexively. “Get your sweet cheeks on the bike, or I’ll make you.”
CHAPTER4
Diesel
Age 19
It was the last summer before college started, and I was practically living at the Archers’ house. I hadn’t been home in weeks. Being around Bennet all the time was relaxing. He was my brother through and through, but being around Emily so much? That was getting more and more difficult.
I’d always loved her, since she’d been a freckled little tagalong to her brother’s games. Then, she’d turned sixteen, and gone away all summer to a camp in France. When she’d come back, something had changed, and I knew in my gut that it wouldn’t be the same.
I watched her when she wasn’t looking, but somehow, I knew she was aware. I was always conscious of her at school. The guys she talked to, the girls she was friends with, the parties she might go to.
This summer was going to be the last time I’d see Emily for a long time, until Thanksgiving, at least, if I could afford the ticket back home with Bennet. There was a strange weight of that knowledge hanging over the entire summer.
This afternoon was sultry as hell, and Bennet had invited some teammates over to the pool. His father, the senator, had one of the best houses in town. I didn’t like the way two guys looked at Emily when she came to hang out. She’d just turned seventeen, was tanned from a summer by the pool, and looking at her was an addiction I couldn’t quite kick.
“Fuck’s sake, Bennet’s sister is getting hotter and hotter,” one of the linebackers grunted as Emily went inside, her tiny yellow bikini drawing every man’s eyes except Bennet’s.
“She’s been hot for years. You can’t say you wouldn’t go for it, even if you get your ass beaten for the effort.”
“She’s seventeen,” I said, my voice glacial. The guys tensed. “Seventeen, and Bennet’s sister. She couldn’t be more off-limits,” I reminded them, pushing myself to my feet. “So don’t think about it, talk to her, or even look, if you know what’s good for you.”