Prologue
3121 Words
Prologue
Kiera, 15 years old
“Truth or dare?”
“Neither,” Jackson responds, groaning as he kicks up dirt with his boot. We’re sitting on hay bales we stole from the Bishop’s barn and put them close to the firepit to keep warm. It’s mid-January, and now that it’s night, the temps have dropped. It’s been our private hiding spot since we were thirteen. It’s on a piece of Jackson’s family’s ranch, and we hang out here when we want to get away from everyone or secretly drink a bottle of his dad’s whiskey.
“You know the rules, Jackson,” I remind him, poking his shoulder as hard as I can. He doesn’t even flinch, though. His body’s made of steel. “You have to play.”
“Says who? That’s a game twelve-year-old’s play when they want to get their d***s wet.”
“Ew!” I shove my shoulder into his, laughing. “Stop being gross and just pick one.”
“Fine.” He pinches his lips together and moves them side to side as if he’s actually pondering the question. But I already know his answer. Jackson picks the same option every time. “Dare.”
Even when I want to get the truth out of him. But I’ve found a work-around.
“Alright. I dare you to tell me who your secret crush is.” I smile boldly, knowing he’s going to make a fuss about it.
“I said dare, Kiera.” He groans again, placing his hands behind his head and locking his fingers around his neck.
“Yeah, and I’m daring you to tell me. So spill it,” I declare. “You know what happens if you don’t…” I taunt.
“You actually leave me the hell alone?” he teases.
“You know I’m not going to tell anyone. Plus, Tanner already told me you have a crush on someone, so don’t even pretend you don’t.”
“When were you talking to him?” He grunts and rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed. Tanner’s his best friend, so if Jackson has a crush on a girl, he’d know.
“He stopped me in the hall because he had a sub and skipped,” I explain, but by the redness covering his neck and cheeks, I can see he’s not happy about it. “He asked if I was going to the stupid Valentine’s dance in a few weeks.”
Jackson snorts, leaning down and picking up the nearly empty bottle of Crown Royal Reserve. It’s his dad’s top-notch whiskey, and if we’re caught with it, he’ll whip us both into next week.
I watch his throat move as he takes a long drink. Jackson loves drinking, and though I hate the taste of it, I like having these moments with him.
“All the chicks at school are annoying.”
“Hey!” I swat his arm.
“All the hot chicks,” he adds with a smirk.
Now I’m the one snorting and rolling my eyes. “That didn’t stop you from making out with Bunny Vanderbilt last semester.” I call him out. Bunny’s one of my friends, and her real name is Barbara, but since she’ll jump on anything breathing with a p***s, she’s been penned the appropriate nickname. “Or Rosa Michels,” I add. She’s another friend of mine.
As a matter of fact, he’s made out with most of my friends.
Jackson snickers as if he’s reminiscing about his moments with them. Ugh. I really hate him sometimes.
“Who haven’t you made out with?”
“You can’t ask twice,” he deflects.
“Well, you didn’t answer my first question,” I remind him, taking the Crown Royal bottle from his grip. He’s already had way too much.
“I don’t have crushes, Kiera. I’m not a seven-year-old boy who thinks girls have cooties.”
Groaning, I roll my eyes so hard I’m quite sure they’re permanently stuck in the back of my head. “So you didn’t crush on Bunny or Rosa?”
He shrugs, staring intently at the flames of the fire. “They were decent enough for a few minutes. Nothing to think twice about.”
Oh my God. I think I might puke.
Nope. I am going to puke.
Turning away, I kneel over the hay bale and empty my stomach over the small patch of grass that isn’t dead. Jackson’s hand rests on my back, rubbing soothing circles as I dry heave until everything has been purged from my stomach.
“Damn,” Jackson howls. “You’ve gotta learn to hold your liquor.”
I turn around and wipe my mouth with my sleeve. “You’re such an ass.”
“What?” He raises up both hands. “I’m just sayin’. I’ve had way more than you, and I barely feel it.”
“That’s because you’re a bottomless pit. You’re like some weird breed.” I situate myself back on the hay, feeling my face flush with embarrassment. Although it’s not the first time he’s seen me vomit, it’s not something I like to make a habit of.
No wonder he makes out with all the girls in school except me.
Jackson makes a fist and punches himself in the gut, roaring loudly into the dark night sky. “Invincible, baby!”
“You are not invincible, Jackson Bishop! You’re going to seriously get hurt one of these days,” I tell him. “Drinking and being stupid are going to eventually catch up with you.”
“Stop being a fish!” He pushes my shoulder. “Always going with the flow is boring.”
“I am not a fish!” I pout, pushing him back.
“You so are! That’s why you care about that stupid dance. All your friends are going, so, of course, you’re going too.”
“Me wanting to hang out with friends doesn’t make me a fish. Gah! I don’t even know why I hang out with you.”
“Because I’m the coolest person you know, and you know I’m right.” He flashes his infamous Jackson Bishop smirk at me, and like always, it turns me to mushy goo. Damn him! Why does he have to be charming and arrogant at the same time?
“You wish,” I fire back, though the smile I’m failing to hide gives me away. “And if I’m a fish, then you’re a seagull. Always squawking and getting into mischief. Sounds just like you.”
His head falls back as a c***k of laughter escapes his throat while he smacks his thigh over and over. “Oh, Kiera.” He’s still laughing as though I just said the funniest thing in the world. “This is why I like you. I never know what random s**t will come out of that sassy mouth of yours.”
He has no idea what those words just did to my heart. The blood in my chest pumps so hard and fast, and my heart is racing as I eagerly wait for whatever else he has to say.
“That’s why you like me?” I repeat as if I’m offended. I’m determined to finally get to the bottom of this. Jackson’s many things, and one thing is for sure—he’s confusing as hell. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers, and as we grew older, we bonded over our love of horses. It seemed inevitable, considering our parents are good friends, but the relationship I share with Jackson has always been different compared to the other Bishop brothers. Jackson has a twin brother, John, and though he can be fun to hang out with, we don’t have much in common. They might be identical in looks, but their personalities are as different as they come.
“Like you enough to hang out with you,” he taunts with a lazy smile. “You’re like a less annoying sister.”
Thud.
My heart just jumped and fell flat into a million broken pieces.
“And considering Courtney is an annoying little twerp I can’t stand most of the time, you’re a breath of fresh air—mostly.”
“Wow…” I say with fake happiness. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
“Oh stop being so dramatic. We used to take baths together, and I already know what your chest looks like, so why would I bother trying to look at it now?”
“Jackson Bishop!” I scold, standing and smacking him right across the head. “What’s wrong with you?”
He grabs my wrist when I try to hit him again and pulls me forward until I’m forced to sit on his lap. I start laughing when he does even though I’m trying to be mad at him.
“You gonna stop smackin’ me?” he whispers in my ear, making my body shiver and my heart beat faster.
My breath hitches, and suddenly, I feel like I can’t breathe. Jackson’s arm is wrapped around my waist as his hand stays locked on my wrist, holding me securely. His erection is evident in his tight jeans as it pushes into my ass. I try to swallow, but the razor blades lodged in my throat make it impossible.
“Kiera?” he prompts. “I’ll release you if you promise to stop hitting me.”
I finally find my voice and steady my breathing. “Why?” I look over my shoulder to scowl at him. “Afraid you’ll get beat up by a girl?”
“In your wet dreams, Kiera Young!” The next thing I know, I’m flipped to my back on the ground and Jackson is towering over me, pinning my arms above my head. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart, but you’ll be painfully sorry. I could take you down with my pinky while fighting a hangover.”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to wiggle my arms out of his grip. Dammit. He really is too strong for his own good. If I didn’t know he was raised on a ranch, I’d find it quite freakish.
“I could take you down with one hit while tipsy,” I shoot back, ready to prove him just how right I am, and after that whole sister comment, I’m not even sorry for what I’m about to do.
He barks out a loud laugh, obviously not buying my threat. “Show me whatcha got, fishy.”
“Wait, your thigh is digging into my side.” I arch my back, pretending the discomfort is painful, and when he lifts up slightly, I take my shot.
“Sucker!” Lifting my leg, I aim directly between his legs and feel his erection collide with my bony knee. The moment it happens, I instantly regret everything because the look on his face scares the s**t out of me. I’m sure he’s stopped breathing, and by the way his face goes pale, I’m certain the air was sucked out of his lungs.
“Holy. Fuck.” He drops to the ground, holding his groin and spewing out inaudible noises.
Well, at least he’s breathing.
“That was a f*****g cheap shot, Kiera,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut as he breathes rapidly in and out.
“To be fair, I did warn you.”
“Stop talking before I…” He pauses midsentence to catch his breath.
“Geez. Does it really hurt that bad?”
“Seriously?” He winces, causing me to do the same. “Imagine your tit being twisted off by pliers, then dipped in lava and forced down your throat.”
“Jesus.” I shiver. “That’s mildly disturbing.”
Moments pass while Jackson lies in the fetal position, holding his junk and steadying his breathing. Though the flames of the fire have gone down, I’m pretty sure I see Jackson’s eyes watering.
“Are you going to be okay? You’re making me feel bad here.”
“You feel bad?” He glares at me.
“Okay, I’ll shut up now.”
Jackson finally moves and sits up, so we’re facing each other.
“Probably the best thing you’ve said all night.”
Now I’m the one rolling my eyes. “We’ll call it even for all the times you’ve picked on me. That was fifteen years of pent-up revenge,” I say matter-of-factly.
“So does that mean you’ll get revenge on me again in fifteen years?” He pops a brow, bracing for my response.
I point my finger at him, holding back a laugh at his stupidly cute face. “Don’t tempt me.”
“s**t, seriously.” He groans as he stands and sits down on the hay bale, holding himself. “I’ll probably never be able to have kids now.”
“Then the world will thank me for not allowing you to reproduce more of you.” I snicker, standing to sit next to him. “I think you’re just milking it now. The pain can’t be drawing out this long.”
Both of his brows raise instantly. “Let me punch you in the vag and see how you feel in ten minutes.”
I giggle, trying to hide the blush that surfaces on my cheeks. “Well, unless a bowling ball is coming out of it, I can confidently say I wouldn’t b***h out like you did.”
“You’re a feisty little firecracker when you drink,” he howls. “Can we just make a pact that there’ll be no junk or vag kicking from now on? I’d like to feel my dick.”
Yeah, I know. With just about every one of my friends.
“Fine,” I agree. “No tittie punches either.”
He cracks up laughing. “Damn, I was hoping that’d slip through.”
“On one condition, though…” I add.
“Huh? You secretly like your titties punched?”
“Jackson!” I’m tempted to punch him in the junk again.
“What? Some chicks dig that!” he exclaims. “Kinky, rough s*x is a thing, you know.”
How the hell would I know anything about that? I’m a virgin who’s barely gone past first base.
Ugh. Maybe I am his less annoying little sister.
“You still have to follow through with your dare, or else…”
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me. After that junk shot, I shouldn’t ever have to play that stupid game again,” he protests.
“No way! You said ‘dare,’ and you know that once you pick one, you have to follow through or you face the consequences.” I remind him of the rules we made when we were eleven.
“It can’t be any worse than what I’ve already endured, so f**k it.” Jackson stands, his d**k coming back to life. He reaches behind his neck and pulls off his T-shirt. I gaze down his chest and abs, and though I’ve seen him shirtless dozens of times, the sight of his chiseled muscles never gets old. Next, he unzips his jeans, and I wait with bated breath for what’s coming.
“Hold back your drool,” he taunts, looking at me with a devilish grin. Jackson pulls his pants and boxers down to his ankles before quickly kicking them off. I’m certain my heart stops beating completely, and I’ve now died and gone to heaven.
Jackson’s always followed through with his truth or dare to avoid this very consequence, but for some reason, tonight he’s determined to actually kill me. Torturously.
I pull my lower lip into my mouth and bite down. Jackson stands naked in front of me, his d**k getting hard, and he’s so close, I could reach out and touch it. Sliding my hands under my legs to keep that very thing from happening, I blink and bring my gaze back up to his mischievous face.
“Ready?” His cocky smile has butterflies twirling around my stomach. He bends his arms and puts his fists into his shoulders, mimicking a pair of wings. He then runs around in circles, flapping his pretend wings as he screams ‘bwak-bwak-bwak, I’m a chicken’ over and over until I’m bent over laughing so hard, I’m crying.
Jackson looks absolutely ridiculous, but I can’t deny how much he makes me laugh on a daily basis. Whether we’re screwing around or actually working together, I know it’s always going to be a fun time.
“There,” Jackson pants, coming to a stop in front of me. “Three minutes of naked humiliation. Happy now?”
I swallow hard, willing myself to keep my eyes above his neck because sneaking a peek lower is far too tempting.
“Mildly,” I quip. “Though I’ve changed my mind.”
“On what?” he barks.
“A junk punch isn’t enough to get even for all the s**t you’ve done to me.”
“Are you kiddin’ me? I’m standing naked here. What else do you wanna do to me?”
So damn much. Bad, bad, bad.
I pinch my lips together, flashing an innocent look as I eye the fire behind him. “Gotta get home. Curfew!” I walk out of his reach, moving farther away while he starts to put the pieces together.
“Where are my clothes?” He looks down to where he left them, then searches the rest of the area. “Kiera! Goddammit! Where are they?”
“I decided to bend the rules a little. Felt the consequences were too lenient.” I nod my head to the fire that’s effectively using his clothes as fuel.
Jackson finally gets the hint and spins around to the large flames. I run faster, putting more distance between us as I look over my shoulder to see whether he’s chasing after me.
“You’re dead, Kiera Young! DEAD! You know I’m going to get you so much worse!” he shouts.
Running, I laugh as loud as I can, knowing he’s going to have to walk into his house butt-ass naked. I can only hope Mama Bishop or one of his brothers are still up to add to his misery.
Turning around in his direction, I cup my hands over my mouth and shout back, “Don’t worry. Shrinkage is normal in the cold!”
I squeal the moment Jackson comes charging for me. Bolting as fast as I can back to the house, Jackson eventually catches up to me and tackles me to the ground. Our bodies hit the grass with full force, both of us laughing as we catch our breath.
“So, am I still a fish?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“No.” He chuckles. “You’re a goddamn bull.”
“A bull?” I turn toward him with a questioning glare.
“Yeah. A fuckin’ savage. Chewed me up and spit me out.” He laughs as if he’s actually impressed. God, I love the sound of his laughter. He’s always looking for a good time, and when he’s laughing, I know he’s having the time of his life.
“Hmm,” I say. “Well, guess that’ll teach you—mess with the bull…”
“You get the horns,” he finishes for me, rolling his eyes at my proud victory.
“That’s right.”
I feel Jackson’s stare, and when I turn to face him, I catch him looking at my lips, and wonder if this is finally it. I’ve dreamt of kissing Jackson for as long as I can remember, but instead of making a move, I’ve watched on the sidelines as he’s flirted with and dated all my friends.
“Miss Whitman,” he blurts out, taking me by surprise.
“Huh? What about Miss Whitman?” I’m so confused.
“The answer to my dare.”
“Your dare? Wait, what? You liar!” I scoff, reminding myself to not look at his d**k.
“I don’t lie, Kiera. You know that.”
“You do not have a crush on Miss Whitman, the librarian! She’s like fifty!”
“So? She’s hot!”
I mimic a gagging noise and lean up on my elbows. “You’re a pig.”
“You’re just jealous,” he fires back, and my cheeks instantly burn.
“No, I think you’ve mistaken my disgust for jealousy. She wears her glasses on the tip of her nose!”
“Yeah, it’s sexy as hell.” He whistles a catcall.
Leaning over, I shove him. “Stay down in the mud where you belong, pig.”
“C’mon, you know you wanna join me!” He opens his arms with a mocking smile. “Gotta take off your clothes, though.”
I stand, stepping away from him so he can’t reach out and grab me.
“In your dreams, playboy!” I continue walking backward, putting much needed space between us.
I’m almost back to my four-wheeler when I hear him yell out once more. “Only the naughty ones!”
- Writer
