The Marked Men 3-Book Collection: Rule, Jet, Rome. Jay Crownover
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like sticky sweet lip gloss and smelled like cheap floral perfume. She had none of the softness or perfectness of how it felt being lip-locked with Shaw, so I had sent her on her way and felt like shit for the rest of the night. I knew I was going to have to talk to Shaw. I couldn’t keep going on like this or I was going to end up sabotaging everything that was building between us.
“It freaks me out, Rome.”
“Why?”
“You know why. Once someone is in, it kills you when they leave.”
“Come on, Rule, the people who care enough to get in normally don’t want to leave. Just look around you: I’m still here, Nash hasn’t gone anywhere. Jet and Rowdy would kill for you, and if you took a minute to think about it, Shaw has been there just as long. You might have thought she was there for Remy because he always watched out for her and protected her, but I think you’re smart enough to realize now that maybe she was trying to take care of you for another reason altogether.”
He let the weights clatter to the rack with a thud and turned to look at me out of cool eyes.
“Grow up, Rule. Stop acting like a spoiled brat who can’t live outside his brother’s shadow. You have an amazing, successful career, a solid group of friends, a family that might be broken but loves you nonetheless, and you have a pretty spectacular girl just waiting for you to realize she’s yours for the taking.”
“Man, when you go big brother you go all out.”
He rolled his eyes at me as we made our way to the locker room. I shrugged back into my street clothes and shot a quick glance at my phone. My heart constricted in my chest when I saw the message she had sent. I could practically hear how sad she was in the words. I really was an asshole; I could have talked to her instead of sending her off with that jackass without a word. I was trying to think of something to text her back when Rome thunked me on the back of the head with his palm.
“Let’s go.”
“I have to be at work at noon anyway. Hey, Rome.” I waited until he turned and looked me in the eye. “What about Mom and Dad?”
“What about them?”
“Me and Shaw. If I get it figured out, if I manage not to screw it up royally, what am I supposed to do about them? They would never understand.”
“Who cares? You deserve to be happy and so does Shaw. Remy is gone and that’s just the way it is.”
I cleared my throat and ran my hand across the back of my neck. “Yeah, well, Shaw was never with Remy that way.”
His eyes got big and his mouth sort of dropped open. “Do I want to know how you know that?”
“Probably not, but let’s just say I know for a fact she and Remy didn’t have a relationship like that.”
“Well regardless, it isn’t any of Mom and Dad’s business.”
I sighed again. “Yeah, I guess.”
We parted ways and I made my way to the shop. I had a busy day with clients back to back and I was still committed to going to the show with the guys that night. Brent, the lead singer of the band, was a good client and I got a lot of good press out of having my work on him since Artifice had blown up over the last few years.
After work I went home and changed and got ready to roll out with the boys, but my mind was still on Shaw and the text she’d sent me this morning. She had hurt me and even though I was too hardheaded to admit it, that was the reason I had pulled away. I didn’t want her around the ex because logically he was a better match for her and I didn’t want to come up short. By shoving her away and not giving her a chance to talk about it, or a chance for us to work it through, I was cutting off any chance at rejection or being found lacking before it could start. I was an idiot. Of all the people in my life Shaw had never been one to make me feel like I was less than anything. Yeah, she could be judgmental and chilly when she was feeling pressured and cornered, but she never made me feel like I wasn’t enough.
The show was awesome; we got treated like rock stars because we were backstage and knew the band. The girls who were around us were tempting and alluring, but when it came time for the after party I dipped out early and went home by myself. I took a shower and crawled into bed still staring at my phone. Not able to contain it anymore I finally sent her a text back.
I kissed some chick last night.
I held my breath because I didn’t know what she was going to text back. I was fully prepared for her to tell me it was over, that I had gone too far, but nothing came. I stared at the screen for a good twenty minutes, my heart racing, and still nothing came through.
I’m sorry, I didn’t do it to hurt you. I’m just an idiot and this is harder than I thought.
There still wasn’t a response and I felt that weird slither in my chest that was tied to Shaw start to shatter. All I knew was I had to fix this, that I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. Rome was right, I needed to grow up. I hadn’t even given this a fair shot—as usual my hot head was writing checks the rest of me wasn’t prepared to cash. I tossed and turned all night. She never called or texted me back and I began to panic. I heard Nash stumble in at some point after four and I hoped Rome slept through it.
I got up the next morning and started moving around the apartment at a frantic pace. I brushed my teeth and shoved a bagel in my mouth. I tore through my closet to find the one shirt I owned that had buttons on it and found the single pair of black Dickie pants I had that weren’t jeans. I put a black hoodie on and a pinstriped blazer over it and bounded out the door all while my brother and roommate looked at me like I had lost my mind.
“I’ll be back later.”
“Where are you going? To church?” Nash looked a little worse for wear and Rome was just watching me knowingly.
“I need to talk to Shaw.”
“So call her.”
“She isn’t answering her phone.”
“You think her mom’s just gonna let you roll up to the house and let you in?”
“I don’t care; I need to talk to her so I’m going to talk to her.”
Rome winked at me and saluted me with his coffee cup. “Atta boy. Call me if they have you arrested and I will totally come get you out.”
“Later.”
I had to stop and put gas in the truck and for whatever reason there was a ton of traffic going out of town. I was impatient and ready to have a fit of serious road rage by the time I finally got to Brookside. I tried to call her one more time and was sent right to voice mail. I almost crushed the phone in my hand when her recorded greeting cheerily told me to just leave a message.
I knew where her mom lived because I had been forced to pick her up more than once and bring her to our house when I still shared a car with Remy. I followed the car in front of me through the gates and found the house with no problem. There was a menagerie of all kinds of expensive and fancy cars that seriously had no place being in Colorado parked out front the chalet-style mansion.
I jogged up the front steps and rang the doorbell. I was expecting a maid or maybe some fancy-ass butler to open the door; what I wasn’t expecting was an older, harder version of Shaw. There was no doubt this woman was Shaw’s mother; they had the same white-blond hair, the same piercing green eyes, but where Shaw was delicate and lovely, this woman looked like she had been carved out of a solid block of ice. I saw her eyes narrow and sharpen when she saw me but I was on a mission and I didn’t care who this chick was—she wasn’t going to stand in my way, even if I had to run her over.
“I need to talk to Shaw.”
Her mouth pulled tight and she put her small body solidly in the doorway. “You’re Margot and Dale’s boy aren’t you?”
“One of them.” We weren’t friends, were never