THE WRIGHT MISTAKE (Wright #3)

3. Julia

3

Julia

Going anywhere with Austin Wright was a bad idea.

I’d had my fair share of bad breakups. And whatever the f**k had happened with Austin ranked up there. I was going to put it in the number two spot. The number one spot would always be taken.

Maybe I was actually following him because of my most recent breakup though. No one would blame me if I slept with Austin to forget the last year of stupidity I’d let myself go through. To let myself believe for so long that I could do nice and normal.

Except me. Would I forgive myself?

Austin had gotten under my skin.

Like a virus, and I was so f*****g sick.

Austin grabbed keys off of a hook by the kitchen and then veered toward the exit. I glanced over my shoulder once and realized that no one else had even seen us leave. I’d been friends with Heidi and Emery for almost two years now, but the whole Wright family thing was a bit over my head. Strangely, it felt like Austin was the only one who noticed that. Or maybe he didn’t, and he just wanted to get in my pants. I rarely could get a good read on him.

“Where are we going again?” I asked.

“I didn’t say.”

He shot me that panty-melting grin, and my frown deepened.

Warning alarms were going off in my head. I should stop this. I should go back to the party and enjoy my time with friends. I didn’t have to do this with Austin to have a good time.

But I walked out the door anyway.

He jangled the keys in his hand, absentmindedly flipping them around and around on the key ring. I didn’t see his shiny red Alfa Romeo. A f*****g beautiful car that I had fallen in love with on sight. Not its owner, but definitely the damn car.

Austin swung me toward Jensen’s giant truck.

“Um…what are you doing?” I demanded.

“Going for a drive.”

“You are not f*****g driving! You’re drunk.”

His face split into a smile. “I’m not driving. You are.”

He threw the keys to me, and I caught them, one-handed.

“You want me to drive this huge truck? Does Jensen even know we’re borrowing it?”

“Eh, don’t worry about him. He won’t care.” He popped open the driver’s side. “Need a boost?”

“I don’t want to steal his car, Austin. Grand theft auto isn’t in my repertoire.”

“You want me to drive then?” he asked, reaching for the keys.

I held them back, out of his reach. “Definitely no.”

“Then, get your ass in the truck.”

Austin didn’t give me a chance to argue; he hoisted me up and set me down in the driver’s seat. I didn’t even know how he’d managed it. I wasn’t a small person. Short, yes. Thin, no. I’d never in a million years been Heidi’s size. Not that I gave two f***s. This was who I was, and I liked it. But, damn, Austin had to have biceps for days to lift me like that.

“Austin,” I said softly. My voice was a knifepoint.

“Hmm?”

“If you ever touch me again without permission, I’ll gut you like a fish.”

He laughed and trailed a finger down my exposed leg. “Sure thing, Jules.”

I clenched my hand into a fist to keep from slapping his endearingly handsome face. “Why am I doing this?”

“Because you’re intrigued. Now, let’s go.”

Austin jogged around to the other side of the truck and jumped into the passenger seat. I couldn’t believe myself, but I turned the truck on and slammed the door shut.

All I kept asking myself was, Why? Because, seriously, why?

“Don’t make me regret this,” I told him.

I put Jensen’s truck into reverse and backed out of the lake house. I was glad that I drove a giant Tahoe, or I wasn’t sure how I would have managed. The roads at Ransom Canyon were narrow. Luckily, most people were inside or on the lake, and we were the only idiots driving back up the canyon wall.

The winding road cut into the mountain face made me nervous as hell. It was bad enough when Landon had driven down it. This was a whole new level of unease. We certainly didn’t have canyons like this in Ohio. Truly, we didn’t have much in Ohio. Not where I was from.

Austin guided me around the face of the canyon, and I was so busy concentrating on not falling off of a cliff that I hadn’t noticed that we had come to some empty gravel parking lot.

“Right here,” he said. “Now, turn it around and back up to the edge of the cliff side.”

“Uh…how close?”

“I’ll tell you when to stop.”

He didn’t do that until I thought I was going to drive straight over the edge.

“It’s fine. There’s a chain,” he said when I refused to move another inch.

“A chain isn’t going to stop this truck.”

“Ah, come on, babe.”

He hopped out of the car, and I counted slowly to ten before following after him. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Why am I at an abandoned parking lot on the top of a canyon with Austin Wright?

“This is what you wanted to show me?” I asked incredulously.

He’d pulled down the latch on the back of the truck and dropped a blanket over the bed. He sat down and patted the seat next to him. “Over here.”

I bit back a snarl and took his offered seat. “What are we doing?”

He put his finger to his lips and then pointed out in front of him. I resisted the urge to bolt. He wasn’t being a total s**t even though he was clearly drunk. I didn’t forgive him for pulling me into the lake or all the other stuff that had happened, but I had agreed to come up here. I could at least give him the benefit of the doubt before he f****d everything up and drove me mad.

With a sigh, I turned to face forward, conscious of his leg pressed up against my thigh and our shoulders almost touching. An electric current seemed to radiate between us as I tried to focus on everything but his body next to mine.

But what I saw was a perfect, unimpeded view of the canyon below. A crystal-clear blue lake was dotted with boats, Jet Skis, and a few tubes. From this height, we couldn’t hear the screams of excitement and adrenaline, but I could sense it. Houses dotted the lakeshore, gliding evenly up the canyon walls. Some were as large as the crazy mansion on the hill, as obtrusive as the steel house that had taken decades to build, and others were as small as a tiny one-bedroom, completely hidden and tucked away in the trees.

“Wow,” I whispered. “It’s a great view.”

“See? I thought you’d like it.” His hand trailed over mine, leaving little circle eights behind in its wake. “It’ll only get better.”

“Why are you like this?” I asked, my voice hoarse. I couldn’t look at him, but I didn’t move away. I’d always loved the things that were bad for me.

“Like what?”

“Decent when I want nothing to do with you.”

“Hate and love are easy emotions to feel. They’re powerful. It’s indifference you have to fight for,” he said, gripping my chin and turning me to face him. “Not caring about someone would mean forgetting them, and we both know that neither of us are forgettable.”

For just a moment, my fingers ached to thread up through his hair. My mind replayed past memories. Simpler times. My body remembered those lost hours. But my heart snagged on the rips he’d added to the shredded mess. It was a mystery how it still beat with all the damage it had sustained.

“I wish I could forget you,” I told him, not caring how harsh I sounded.

But, like usual, he just laughed and faced forward once more. He didn’t take my anger seriously. I never knew if it was the buzz or if he truly didn’t care.

“No, you don’t.”

I didn’t contradict him. I just huffed as I faced the horizon and watched the sun set on my first day newly single. There was nothing like a Lubbock sunset. Streaks of pink and orange and gold painted the sky like a watercolor, bleeding into the sky. The scene reminded me of a postcard—fake and full of hope.

And, for the first time in weeks, my fingers itched for my charcoals. I’d thought, when I was younger, that I would be this incredible painter, full of life and color. Then, I’d grown up. I’d realized bright colors were for other people, and shades of gray were more my speed. It wasn’t often I was inspired to pick them up anymore. They brought back too many memories.

“You have that look about you,” Austin said.

I’d been so focused on what the scene below me would look like on paper that I hadn’t even realized he’d been staring at me.

“What look?”

“Like you’re going to draw me like one of your French girls.”

“Ugh! I regret the day I showed you my drawings.”

“Why? You’re an artist.”

“I am not an artist,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s reserved for people who, one, have any talent and, two, are professionals. I sometimes draw on the side when the mood strikes.”

“Like right now?”

“Maybe.”

“I knew it,” he said with triumph. “I thought the sunset would do it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know that?”

“You like beautiful things,” he said, gesturing to himself.

I snorted. What an arrogant jackass!

“Whatever, Austin.”

I turned back to face the sunset. He was kind of right. I did love beautiful things. Colorful sunsets and raw emotions and crashing waves and crinkled eyes from laughter and big heaving clouds. I spent so much of my life away from all those things that, when I could soak them up, I became a sponge.

Like right now.

I bathed in the twilight and reveled in the richness of the moment.

Even if it was with Austin.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, just watching the colors kaleidoscope the sky. It was companionable. I’d forgotten how easy it was to be with him. We were better when we weren’t yelling at each other. It just didn’t happen often.

Austin’s arm swept across my shoulders and gently pulled me into him. I wanted to bite his head off for touching me after just telling him not to, but I didn’t. Sometimes, it was easier. I’d just gone through a breakup. A little comfort, even from someone who drove me up the wall, wasn’t the worst thing.

I guess. Right?

“Jules?”

I gritted my teeth and sighed in frustration. “I said—”

“Right. f**k. Habits, babe.”

“Why the f**k am I even here you with you?” I asked, straightening again.

His hand snaked up my neck before threading through my long red hair. “You know why.”

“Honestly, no.”

He laughed, as if I were joking. But I wasn’t. Not entirely. My brain was telling me a whole other reason for being here than my body. My body wanted another taste. My brain knew it was a bad idea. Curiosity had won out, but still, this wasn’t smart.

Our eyes met across the small distance, and my brain suddenly stilled. f**k, that face and those eyes and that mouth. Possessive and commanding. Even when both of those qualities drove me mad, they filled me with desire.

A breath passed between us before he pressed forward and slanted his mouth against mine.

When we spoke, we mixed about as well as oil and water, but our bodies were another story. We were the ocean waves, destined to crash together.