parked. She grabbed her helmet, yanked it onto her head, did up the strap, and then jumped on, pedaling as if the hounds of hell were on her heels, though she supposed they were.
Boone Avery had been her hell back in the day. For a few weeks that fateful summer, she’d been the happiest she’d ever been. She’d given him her love, her virginity, and then he’d left Crystal Lake without a word. Not. One. Word.
Now he was back, and he’d awakened something in her that she thought was long dead. Want. Need. Desire. After LA, after what happened, it was a cruel twist of fate that he was the one to make her feel alive again. Nerves a jumbled mess, she pedaled like a crazy person. She was mad. At the world. At Boone Avery. Most of all, at herself. She’d made a vow to hate him until the end of her days, and all it took was one look to annihilate that vow. Seriously.
This wasn’t acceptable. What the hell was she going to do about it?
Chapter Two
Boone walked into his mother’s house a few steps behind his son. It was late afternoon, and the sun still shone bright and hot, though in the distance, storm clouds were brewing, and he had a feeling the big shindig downtown would be washed out before it began.
He was fine with that. It was an excuse to bow out without looking like an asshole. He wasn’t fond of all the social crap that a town like Crystal Lake thrived on. Mostly because he was the object of a lot of speculation and gossip, and he’d rather avoid it altogether if he could. It seemed that every other weekend, there was some…thing going on. The Fourth of July would be one of the biggest of the year, with a parade and a host of festivities along the river. But the night before was always responsible for most of the Independence Day hangovers on account of the dance downtown.
Unless Boone got lucky and it rained.
Fresh out of the shower, his hair was still damp, and he was glad for it. Not much had changed in the modest bungalow he’d grown up in, and the blinds had been pulled down to keep out the kind of muggy heat July brought with it.
He shook his head and frowned. His mom was stubborn as hell and refused to let him install AC in the place, even though he’d been after her for the last month or so. His mother wasn’t having it. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. He’d made more money than he’d ever need playing football, and the least he could do was update this place. Hell, even the carpet was the same. There was a stain in the corner from years ago when Nash Booker spilled an entire glass of cherry whiskey on it. In a panic because Boone knew he’d catch hell from his father, they’d moved the chair to cover it up. In the end, it only bought him two days’ reprieve, and then all hell broke loose.
Boone closed the door and glanced around, pushing the bad memories away. His mother was stubborn as hell and clung to the past with a tenacity that was surprising, considering how dark that past was.
“There you are.” Elise Avery walked into the house from the backyard, her blonde hair pinned up in a loose knot on top of her head. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and a soft smile filled a face Boone would walk through fire for. She wore a pair of faded old jean shorts and a simple white T-shirt that said Not Today in black letters.
At forty-seven years of age, his mother didn’t look much older than she had the day she’d turned forty. Though he supposed she’d always look young in his eyes. Considering she was seventeen when she had him, he’d grown up with the youngest mother of any of his pals. At one time or another, all of them had crushed on Elise Avery hard. She had the kind of beauty that could have taken her from this town, but an unplanned pregnancy and his roadblock of a father put that to rest before it could start.
It was a damn shame she lived her life like it was over.
“There’s my favorite little man,” she said as Benji ran toward her and was immediately scooped up into her embrace. She smiled over his head at Boone,