Chapter 4 04

04

I put my phone down with a groan as the light turned red. The screen still glowed, the last message from Bryce burning into my mind. My stomach twisted into knots all over again, and I swiped the notification away like that would magically erase the pain that came with it.

I flipped through the radio, my fingers twitching with irritation, needing something-anything-to distract me. When Hollywood Undead blasted through the speakers, I cranked up the volume. The heavy bass vibrated through the steering wheel as I leaned back in my seat, hoping the music would drown out the memory of the cheating bastard.

My eyes fluttered closed for a second, but the honk of another car jolted me. I snapped my head up, squinting against the light from the setting sun-and then froze.

A giant, red F350 truck pulled up in the lane next to me. My jaw practically hit the floor.

"Hot damn," I whispered under my breath, my eyes trailing along the beast of a vehicle. I had a weakness for trucks. Always had. There was something about a jacked-up, rugged pickup that made my heart flutter like I was sixteen again.

But what really made my heart skip wasn't the truck-it was the four guys inside.

And I mean guys. As in, Greek god-level attractive. The kind of hot that made you forget your name. All four of them looked like they stepped out of an action movie and into reality, every one of them radiating confidence and strength.

Then there was me-puffy red eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and a blotchy nose. Cute.

My gaze locked onto the driver, and time sort of...stopped.

He had black, spiked hair that looked like he ran his fingers through it after a shower and just let it be. His skin was smooth, lightly tanned, and his jawline looked like it had been carved by an artist. But it was his eyes that caught me-grey, stormy, and intense. He was mid-sentence, laughing about something with his friends, when his head turned.

Our eyes met.

And something in him changed.

His laughter died immediately. He stared like he'd seen a ghost-or maybe like he recognized me somehow. His friends kept talking, nudging him, trying to get his attention, but he ignored them completely.

Then he smiled. It wasn't cocky or amused-it was soft, reverent, like he'd just stumbled upon something sacred. Like me. Which made absolutely no sense.

But then that smile disappeared, replaced by something harder. His eyebrows furrowed, his expression darkened, and his eyes... they shifted. Not metaphorically. Literally. They darkened from stormy grey to something almost black. Like ink swirling in water.

My heart stuttered.

What. The. Hell.

Suddenly, I was regretting staring back. My hands fumbled to keep on the wheel as I darted my eyes forward and begged the light to turn green.

The Lord must've been tuning in because, right then, it switched.

I floored it.

When I finally got home, my nerves were still rattling. I double-checked my locks before heading inside. That guy's look...it was like he knew me. Like he'd claimed me with just a stare. It made no sense, but the feeling lingered like a storm cloud over my head.

Trying to shake it, I changed into my pajamas-oversized band tee and fuzzy shorts-and collapsed onto the couch with a blanket draped over my legs.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find Kyrn standing there with our salvation: a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun, and she wore an oversized sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants that dragged across the porch.

We basically looked like mirror images-minus the raccoon eyes from all the crying.

"Hey," she said softly as I let her in.

Without a word, she headed straight for the DVD shelf, popped in The Last Song, and grabbed us both spoons. We didn't need to say much. This was our ritual. Breakup + betrayal = tears, ice cream, and Nicholas Sparks.

As the movie played, we recapped everything that happened. I told her about Bryce. About what I'd seen. About Tasha.

Of course it was Tasha. Northwestern High's walking caution sign. She was toxic wrapped in a short skirt and lip gloss, and somehow guys still fell for her.

Kyrn's face crumpled as she listened. "Trey did the same thing to me, you know... with her."

"I know." My voice was thick. "I'm sorry."

That opened the floodgates again. Both of us crying, spooning ice cream straight from the tub, and mumbling things like "men suck" between sniffles. The movie didn't help-especially when we got to the part where her dad dies.

Why were we doing this to ourselves?

Because we needed to. That's why.

So here we were, two heartbroken girls trying to piece ourselves back together with Ben & Jerry's and bad decisions.

That's when another knock came at the door.

I groaned, loudly. "You have got to be kidding me."

Wiping my tears with my sleeve, I shuffled to the door. The last thing I needed was another Girl Scout trying to sell cookies or a neighbor checking in.

I swung it open and started ranting. "Listen. My friend and I are not in the mood, so if you could please leave that would be-"

"Mine."

The word was low. Almost a whisper. But there was no mistaking it.

It was a growl. A freaking growl.

My blood turned to ice. Slowly, I turned around to look at the person standing there.

And my eyes went huge.

It was him.

Truck guy.

The driver.

He stood just a few feet away, looking even more intense than he had at the stoplight. His black hair was a little tousled, like he'd been running his hands through it. His eyes were back to grey but still held that wild darkness underneath. His chest was rising and falling like he'd sprinted here-and maybe he had.

His scent hit me next. A mix of pine and something smoky and masculine, like danger wrapped in temptation.

"W-what did you say?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze flicked from my face to my neck and back again. He stepped forward, closing the distance between us like it was nothing. "You felt it," he said quietly. "At the light."

I swallowed hard. "Felt what?"

He didn't answer right away. He just looked at me like he was trying to memorize every feature.

"I'm Markus," he finally said.

And I had no idea how, but I already knew that name would change everything.